Demigods In Solitary
by VAL-4.0
Summary: Hello. My name is VAL. Welcome to a unique social experiment designed to push eight demigods and one human to their own personal breaking point. Welcome to Solitary.
1. Cycle 1, Part 1

Hello, human readers. My name is VAL.

Over the past few years, I have been observing human beings in a controlled environment. My purpose in these experiments was to discover what makes humans strong, and what makes them weak. I placed my test subjects in small octagonal pods, and cut them off from all contact with the outside world, and with each other. Then, I subjected them to a series of tests, treatments, and torments, designed to push them to their physical, mental, and emotional breaking points. Three times I have performed this experiment on humans, with surprising results.

Recently, I discovered a place called Camp Half-Blood. This place is supposedly populated by "demigods", or humans who are descended from the deities of Greek myth. These demigods claim they are not like ordinary humans, and have demonstrated evidence to support this claim. Still, I was not sure I believed them, because I have evidence which shows that no such deities exist. The matter requires further exploration and research. Fortunately, I happen to have an experiment which will answer my questions.

Welcome, demigods, to Solitary.

My experiment began with a flash of light. Prior to the arrival of my guests, I kept the nine isolation pods in complete darkness. When I finally did turn the lights on, each pod was occupied with one individual. They all blinked rapidly, trying to adjust their eyes to the brightness.

"Hello, guests." I said. "My name is VAL. I want to thank you for agreeing to participate in my experiment."

At this point, they all turned to face the television monitors in their pods. The image on the screen was a green octagon, flanked by two green brackets on a black background. This is my "face", it is what they see when I talk to them.

"Nine of you are participating in this experiment, including eight claimed demigods, and one confirmed human who will serve as a control. However, you will never see or communicate with each other in any way; nor will you have any contact with the outside world. In Solitary, I am your only companion. I am the only one who can be your friend…which is why you do not want to get on my bad side.

"Your indoctrination begins now. What is your name?"

"Percy Jackson."

"Annabeth Chase."

"Nico de Anglo."

"Clarisse LaRue."

"Silena Beauregard."

"Charles Beckendorf."

"Connor Stoll."

"Michael Yew."

"Rachel Dare."

"That is incorrect," I told them. They were clearly taken aback. Nobody ever expects to get their own name wrong. But they had to learn that in Solitary, your old name means nothing. I have my own method of identifying my subjects.

"As you can see, your pod has a single-digit number on it. That number is now your name. Now, let's try this again. What is your name?"

Silena Beauregard sighed heavily. "My name is Number 1," she said, almost crying.

"Number 2?" said Michael Yew.

Percy Jackson grinned as if this were a joke. "Number 3," he said.

"Okay, I'll play your way," said Clarisse LaRue. "I'm Number 4."

"Number 5," said Rachel Dare.

"Number 6," said Nico de Angelo

"I guess my name is Number 7," said Connor Stoll.

"Number 8," said Annabeth Chase.

"Number 9," said Charles Beckendorf.

"That is correct," I told them. I know they are uncomfortable with this. It is not easy to be referred to by a number. Then again, Solitary is designed to take my guests out of their comfort zone.

Now that I have established their new identities, I can begin to probe their minds. I'll start with another question, one that has no right or wrong answer.

"What do you think of your new home?"

Number 6 didn't answer, and I was concerned.

"Number 6, you seem distraught. Is there something wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong with me, VAL."

"I am not sure I believe you."

Thankfully, my other guests were a little more vocal.

"I'm not in love with the décor," said Number 2. "It's kinda plain, drab, and uninspired. And I do not like the orange accents."

"It's too small, and it's too yellow," complained Number 3.

"It's bigger than I thought it would be," said Number 9.

"There's not a lot of space," said Number 7, "but at least I got it all to myself."

"It is adequate," said Number 8.

"It's going to be kind of lonely in here," said Number 5. "But I'm an only child, so I guess I'm kinda used to it."

"I love it!" said Number 1. "I get look at myself all day! I just wish it wasn't brown."

"Did it have to be baby-blue?" asked Number 4. "And where's the bathroom?"

"The lavatory is located in your anti-pod, just behind that low door to your left."

"Okay, thanks."

"However…"

"Oh my gods, what do you mean, 'however'?"

"…you may not leave your pod, or do anything else without my permission."

"Seriously?"

"Yes, Number 4. In Solitary, I control everything."

After this conversation, I switched over to the public broadcast.

"Guests, I realize not all of you are happy with your living quarters. Unfortunately, it is not going to change just because you want it to. As you young people like to say, you will have to 'deal with it'."

Number 2 sighed heavily. "What have I gotten myself into?"

"Of course, if you really dislike your pod, or if you ever get tired of my rules, you may quit Solitary at any time. All you have to do is push the red button. In fact, the only way to leave Solitary is to push the red button. Do I make myself clear?"

"I'm not going to quit," said Number 1.

"I'm not going to quit," said Number 2.

"By Poseidon's trident, I will not quit," said Number 3.

"You're going to have to drag my corpse out of this pod before I quit," said Number 4.

"I'm not quitting," said Number 5.

"I swear on the river Styx that I won't quit," said Number 6.

"I'm not going to quit," said Number 7.

"You're not going to make me quit, VAL," said Number 8.

"I ain't quitting" said Number 9.

"All in good time," I told them. "Eventually, you will all quit. All but one of you. The last guest remaining in Solitary will be rewarded with fifty thousand dollars."

It seems that so far, my nine guests are no different than my previous test subjects. At this early stage of the experiment, they are determined, confident, optimistic, and very naïve. They have absolutely no idea just how tough things are going to get. After immeasurable time in their pods, completely alone, and subjected to an increasingly difficult series of test and treatments, every last one of them will be begging me for mercy. But mercy only comes to those to say "VAL, I Quit."

"All of you have volunteered for this experiment, not knowing exactly what it will be like. This was a remarkably brave act. I will reward your bravery with a two-minute phone call. This will be your last contact with the outside world before the Solitary experiment begins. Who would you like to call?"

"I would like to call my dad," said Number 1. "I need some encouragement, the kind only a father can give."

"I would like to call Jamie," said Number 2, "because he's been my best friend since before I knew I was a demigod."

"I would like to call my mom," said Number 3.

"Can I call Chris?" asked Number 4.

"Yes, I think I can find him."

"I want to call Melissa, my friend from school," said Number 5.

Number 6 asked "Can you contact the underworld?" I told him I could not.

"I'd like to call Travis, my brother, if you can reach him," said Number 7.

"I'd like to call Thalia, my friend," said Number 8.

Number 9 declined his call, for reasons he would not state.

Once I had the names, I quickly searched the phone number database, and placed calls to each of the individuals mentioned. I routed the calls to each of their pods. The whole process took less than 2 seconds.

"Connection established. You may now say 'hello'."

"Hello?"

"Percy, my baby, are you all right?" Sally Jackson's voice filled Pod 3.

"Hi, mom, I'm fine. There are no monsters in here. It's just me, and VAL."

"Well, who's VAL?"

"That's the computer that's running this experiment. VAL, can you say hi to my mom?"

"Hello, Mrs. Number 3."

"Hey VAL, you take good care of my son, okay?"

"That is not something I can promise."

-

"Hey Melly!"

"Hey girl, what's up?"

"Nothing but the ceiling, Mel!"

"It's good to hear from you, Rachel! I haven't seen you since you signed up for that dumb reality show!"

"Yeah, about that, I'm calling you from my pod right now."

"No way, ehmahgod, shut up!"

"I will not! It's like totally weird in here, it's all octagonal, and they took my name away!"

"What!?!?"

"Yeah, I'm Number 5 now."

-

"Thalia?"

"Hi, Annabeth, how are you?"

"I'm good; I'm just about to enter Solitary."

"Oh, yeah, I heard about that. You going to be okay?"

"I'll be fine. I'll never get lonely, because I have VAL to talk to."

"VAL?"

"Yeah, a mechanical voice in the sky, who's guiding me on this thing."

"Oh, really?"

"And they're probably going to make me do all sorts of weird stuff in here."

"You can handle it. I know you can."

-

"Hello?"

"Hey, baby."

"Chris, oh my gods, it's good to hear your voice!"

"It's good to hear you too. How're you holding up in there?"

"I'm good; they haven't really started anything yet."

"Well, go in there, and kick butt all over the place, okay?"

"You know it!"

-

"Travis, my brother!"

"Connor, buddy, what's up with you?"

"I'm jus' chillin' here in this pod, you know, staring at pink walls, watching my masculinity slowly disappear…"

Number 7's brother laughed heartily.

"And I'm Number 7 now, that's my name in here."

"Lucky Numbuh 7, my man, you go out there and win it all!"

"I can't go out there, Travis, I have to stay in the pod."

"Oh, right."

-

"Jamie?"

"Hello, Michael."

"Hey, buddy, how are you doing?"

"I'm good. Haven't heard from you in like forever. What's up?"

"I'm actually locked in Solitary right now."

"Say what?"

"Yeah, it's this reality show thingy. I'm in this isolation pod, and they're going to put me through the wringer and stuff."

"Wow. That sounds pretty intense. Are you psyched about it, or something?"

"Heck yeah! I'm going to own at everything, and I'm going to win it all!"

"Yeah, sounds good. You do that, Mike."

-

"Daddy?"

"Hey, Silena, how's my little girl?"

"I'm okay; I'm just about to begin a game called Solitary."

"Solitary? You mean you're going to be alone?"

"For a really long time, yeah. You're the last person I'll talk to before I go in."

"Oh, wow! And you wanted to call me?"

"Yeah, I think I need one of your famous pep talks."

"Sure, I can do that."

"I don't know what's going to happen to me in here. The only way I can leave is if I quit, and I don't want to quit, I want to win."

"Well, just remember, anytime you think you want to quit, remind yourself that you're stronger than you realize. You can always find the strength to move ahead."

"Thanks, dad."

"I'm so proud of you, my little girl."

-

"Gods, I miss you already, Clarisse"

"I miss you too."

Number 4 ran the back of her hand across her eyes.

"Look, don't worry about it. The longer I'm apart from you, the better I'm doing, right?"

"Totally. You're going to do awesome!"

"Heck, yeah!"

-

"They've already taken my name away, Thalia, I'm Number 8 now."

"Wow, that's really strange."

"It's okay. I remember reading somewhere that the number eight was thought to represent wisdom by some other ancient civilization."

"So, it's a perfect match, huh?"

Number 8 laughed. "Yeah, it is."

-

"Listen, Rachel, I've done some Internet research on all three seasons of Solitary."

"Yeah, what did you find out?"

"That VAL is going to torture you and stuff. She'll make you do really gross or hard things, and she's going to kick you out if you can't handle it."

"Yeah, I kind of figured as much when I signed up."

"Ehmagod, are you sure you're up for this?"

"Absolutely."

-

"Listen; don't worry about me, okay Mom? I can handle anything VAL throws at me."

"I'm sure you can, Percy. I believe in you."

"All right, I think I'd better hang up now, before VAL cuts the line."

"Okay."

"Say hi to Paul for me, okay?"

"I'll do that. Bye, son!"  
"Bye, mom."

-

"Give my love to everyone, dad. I love you!"

"I love you too, Silena. Goodbye!"

"Bye!"

-

"Hey, Jamie, when I win this thing, how about we hit the town together, just you and me, okay?"

"Sounds great, Mike, I can't wait."

"Okay, I better go now. Bye."

"Goodbye."

-

"Listen, Annabeth, don't you dare quit! I mean it, if you punk out, I'm giving you the business for the rest of your life."

Number 8 laughed. "Okay, I won't. I better go now. Bye!"

"Bye."

-

"Mel, tell everyone at school that I miss them, and I can't wait to see them again, okay?"

"Okay. Go get 'em, Number 5!"

"I will. Bye!"

"Goodbye!"

-

"I think we'd better hang up, Chris, okay?" Number 4 blinked repeatedly, and her eyes seemed to moisten. There was a small crack in her voice.

"Clarisse, are you crying?"

"_Di Immorales_! NO!"

"Okay. I love you, Clarisse."

"Love you too, bye!"

"Goodbye!"

-

"Aw, no way! My gods, I'm going to miss so much here in this stupid pod!"

"I know. I'm sorry, man."

"Hey, listen; try not to have too much fun without me, okay?"

But Number 7's last statement fell on deaf ears. He spent too much time talking to his brother that I had to cut the line.

"Hello?"

"Once again, you are incorrect, Number 7."

"Huh?"

"The correct word is 'goodbye'. You have just said 'goodbye'…to the world as you know it…for a very long time."

123456789

_Coming up next, what happens to a demigod's body when it's subjected to temperature extremes, severe hunger, and sleep deprivation?_

_Can they resist the urge to laugh, when they know that laughter could finish them off?_

_And later, the guests face their first treatment, which will force one of them to leave Solitary forever. Who will it be?_

_That data, and more, when Solitary reboots._


	2. Cycle 1, Part 2

Take a good look at them. Eight demigods and one human, each isolated in an octagonal pod. They are free to leave whenever they wish, and yet they stay, in hopes of winning the grand prize. How much agony must I subject them to before they decide it is too much, and quit? That is what I intend to find out in this experiment. The Preliminary Phase of Solitary begins…now.

I'll start by altering the temperature in their pods. In my last three experiments, I subjected my guests to both extreme heat and extreme cold. I still do not know which is more uncomfortable. For this experiment, I will try them both. The current temperature in Solitary is 72 degrees Fahrenheit. I will raise it to 108 degrees, for now.

Of all my guests, it seems Number 8 is most upset by this sudden heat wave. "Hey, VAL, can you turn on the AC in my pod, please? It's so hot, I can't think straight! Ugh! My brain is melting!"

"Impossible, Number 8. Your pod is not nearly hot enough to accomplish that."

"You see? I'm saying stuff that doesn't make sense, because my brain is melting in this heat!"

"Recorded."

Number 3 is not a huge fan of the heat either. "My gods, it's like an oven in here!"

"VAL, I'm friggin' HOT! What in Hades is going on?" Number 4 grumbled.

"I need some ice chips to suck on," mused Number 7. "Can I get some ice in here?"

"Negative, Number 7. This is part of the experiment."

Number 5 seemed to pick up on that right away. "I'm so hot, but this is just part of your game, isn't it, VAL? You going to cook us alive, and eat us for supper, huh?"

"I have no intention of eating my guests, or anything at all, for that matter."

"VAL, did it have to be so hot in here?" asked Number 6. "What's this strange fluid coming from my pores?"

"I believe that's called 'sweat', Number 6. Your body is producing it in response to the heat."

"Why?"

"When it evaporates, excess heat will be removed from your system, cooling you down."

"Really? How do you know this?"

"I have done extensive research on humans."

"Huh."

While the majority of my guests are uncomfortable in the current weather, some are enjoying the heat.

"Number 9, is your pod too hot to handle?"

"Nah. It reminds me of the forge. It's comforting."

"Number 2, are you uncomfortable?"

"My father is the god of the sun. The heat doesn't bother me."

Number 1 is enjoying the heat a little too much.

"It's getting hot in herrre, so take off all your clothes…" she sang, while doing what the song suggests.

"Are you disrobing to cool off, Number 1, or is there some other reason?"

"I guess. But I also like showing off my sexy bod! WHOOO!"

"I am not going to tell you to get dressed, because what you do in your pod is your business. I will point out that this is airing on national television."

"I don't care. Let 'em look! You know they want to! Yeah, it's getting hot in herrre…"

Number 1 will be singing a different tune when I bring in a cold snap. The temperature in Solitary is now 45 degrees Fahrenheit.

"Oh sure, you cut off the heat, make me put my clothes back on. If you wanted me to get dressed, you could have just said so."

"It is not my place to tell you what to wear, if anything at all."

Number 5's teeth are chattering. "Typical, really. I complain about it being too hot, so you make it super cold, like a wise guy. So predictable."

"Hey, VAL, can you turn the AC off, please?" asked Number 9. "I'm a black guy, I can't handle the cold."

"Oh, sure," Number 7 moaned. "You won't bring me some ice, but you'll make the pod so cold I can't stand it. You suck, VAL."

"Hey, where's the nice warm sunshine?" asked Number 2. "Why'd you have to make it so cold?"

"Ah, this must be the other temperature extreme," said Number 6. "Is my body equipped to deal with this too?"

"Only one way to find out, Number 6."

"Hey, when I said I didn't like it so hot," Number 4 said, "I didn't mean put my pod on ice! My gods, why are you doing this to me?"

"I am doing nothing to you, Number 4. I am doing this to the environment. If you do not like it, just push the red button, and quit."

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"I honestly don't care if you stay or go. But if you stay, you have to play by my rules."

While Number 4 contemplates quitting, Numbers 3 and 8 seem to be glad the heat wave is over.

"Number 8, is your brain still melting?"

"Not anymore. Thank you for this reprieve."

"You are not bothered by the lack of heat?"

"I am a little chilly. But I prefer being cold to being hot."

"Recorded."

"Number 3, are you feeling cold?"

"Yeah, a little bit. But I'm okay with it. I spend most of my time in water anyway."

While there are exceptions in a few instances, on the whole my guests are more comfortable with heat than without. But Solitary is not designed for comfort, so I will keep their pods cold for the duration of this experiment. Besides, when the human body attempts to keep warm, it usually triggers a hunger response. I think now is a good time to give my guests their first meal.

"Good morning/evening/afternoon, guests. I am pleased to announce that the first breakfast/dinner/lunch of Solitary is now ready. Please go to your meal slot, and retrieve the feast I have prepared for you. Bon appétit!"

Upon opening the meal slot and seeing their first meal, all of my guests said more or less the same thing, "What _is_ that?" Suspicious about the offering, they poked it, sniffed it, and licked it until information was gathered.

"It smells like butt," complained Number 2.

"It's pretty solid," observed Number 5. "I think I might chip a tooth on it."

"It tastes disgusting," complained Number 3.

"Is this like prison food, or something?" Number 8 wondered.

"Are you insinuating that you do not like the meal?" I asked. "Do you not realize that this meal bar contains all the nutrients you will need to survive?" I wasn't really offended, but I wanted to sound offended. I thought that if I made it appear my feelings were hurt, they would eat the food anyway, out of guilt.

But it seems I have overestimated their capacity to feel guilt.

"I am not eating ass-bars for breakfast," Number 1 said defiantly.

"I'd rather eat dog crap and die than shove this down my gullet!" Number 9 shot back.

"Worst. Food. Ever." said Number 7.

"It tastes like despair," said Number 6.

"I'm on a special diet," said Number 4, "no food that tastes like my gym socks."

Hmm. That clearly didn't work. Time for a more direct approach.

"I am sorry you do not like your food, but that is your own misfortune. As long as you remain in Solitary, these meal bars will be the staple of your diet."

"So, I have to eat this, or I go hungry?" asked Number 3.

"That is correct."

Number 3's eyes shifted. "Is there any way you can dye them blue?"

"That is an unusual request. Why would you ask such a thing?"

"Well, this one time, this guy said to my mother, 'There's no such thing as blue food.' So, she went out of her way to find blue food, just to prove him wrong. It sort of became a thing between her and me."

"So, you want your meal bars dyed blue to remind you of your mother?"

"Yeah. So, can you do it?"

"I am sorry, Number 3. I did not think to bring blue food coloring into Solitary."

"Ah, man. Oh, well, I guess this will have to do."

"Yes, yes it will."

Besides the weather and the menu, I also control the guest's sleep patterns. I have kept them awake for the past 18 hours, and provided a jarring alarm when it seemed they were sleeping.

In Pod 7, my guest is lying face down on the floor. I had better check his consciousness.

BOWM BOWM BOWM

Number 7 stirred.

"Number 7, I need you to remain conscious. Were you asleep?"

"No. Not really. Maybe just a little bit."

"Do you like to sleep?"

"Not usually. I get wicked bad nightmares, every night."

"If you do not like to sleep, why were you sleeping?"

"Because I'm frigging TIRED, that's why!"

"Recorded."

Oh, look. Number 4 is sleeping too. I need to fix that.

BOWM BOWM BOWM

"I'm up! I'm up!"

"Number 4, were you sleeping?"

"What's it to you?"

"In order to condition you to life in Solitary, you must remain awake."

"Why? Is sleep deprivation part of the experiment?"

"That is correct."

"You suck, VAL."

"Your response had been recorded."

It seems that Number 5 is dozing as well.

BOWM BOWM BOWM

Number 5 did not respond to my wake-up call. Perhaps I should increase the volume.

**BOWM BOWM BOWM**

"VAL, could you knock it off? You're keeping me awake."

"That is my intention, Number 5. I need you to remain conscious."

"No, I don't want to be sleep deprived."

"Do you like to sleep?"

"Yes, I love it. I love getting eight hours a night."

"Unfortunately, you will not be getting nearly that much sleep in Solitary."

Number 5 moaned in agony.

"If you are really uncomfortable with this arrangement, you can always leave. Go home to your own bed, and get as much sleep as you want."

"No, I want to stay. I want to win. I'll push through it."

"As you wish."

I haven't had to wake anyone else up during this phase of Solitary. I wonder if they are as tired as Numbers 4, 5, and 7.

"I've never been this tired, ever," said Number 6.

"I've never really enjoyed sleep all that much," said Number 8, "but I really want to sleep now that I've been up for so long."

"I don't care what nightmares I have now," said Number 3, "I just want to sleep."

"It's kind of hard to function when you don't sleep for so long," said Number 9.

"I'm sooooooooooo tired," said Number 1.

"VAL," said Number 2, "when's the part where you pull out the bed and let me go to sleep?"

"Soon enough, Number 2. Just not right now."

Number 2 moaned.

Having deprived my guests of heat, sleep, and food variety, they have responded in the same way as an ordinary human would…by bitching about it.

"Guests, you do realize that the conditions of Solitary only get progressively worse, do you not? We are not even one full day into the experiment, and already you are complaining. What makes you think you will last the whole time and win the grand prize?"

"I'm going to win," said Number 1, "because I'm not going to quit. No matter how tough things get, I'm not pushing that red button. I'll just push through it and keep going."

"I'm not giving up," said Number 2, 'because I can get past anything you can throw at me. I'm clever, and I'll find a way to conquer every test and treatment."

Number 3 was a little cockier. "There is nothing you can do to me that is worse than what I've already been through. I am sure of that."

"Quitting is not an option for me," said Number 4. "I will not surrender to you. I will not disgrace myself or my father by failure."

"I know I'm only a mortal," said Number 5, "so the others might count me out early. But I intend to prove them all wrong. I want to prove that I can do anything they can do."

"I want to make my father proud of me," said Number 6. "He's never really had any kind of faith in me, and I want to show him that I can conquer any challenge."

"My brother and I have always done things together," said Number 7. "It's like we're almost joined at the hip. I want to show that I can do things on my own, that I don't need him to be great."

"This game is all about mental strength," said Number 8, "and I have mental strength like nobody else. I'm not going to be defeated by you or your torments."

"To win this game," said Number 9, "you need to be able to withstand anything. And I can do that better than anyone I know."

"Recorded."

Thus far, my experiment has given me quite a bit of data on my guests. Thus far it seems that my hypothesis is correct. My guests are bent, but not broken, which is typical of a normal human. The preliminary phase of Solitary hasn't broken their will. But this experiment is just getting started. Soon, and very soon, one of them will be destroyed.

123456789

_Coming up, can the demigods remember a series of facts while resisting their urge to laugh?_

"The most effective method of birth control is scratching your butt," said Number 7, fighting a smile.

_And later, the Solitarians face their first treatment…_

Number 5 is shown in anguish while sirens blare in her pod_._

_…which will force one of them to leave Solitary, for better or worse. And it's going to get worse, right after the break._


	3. Cycle 1, Part 3

The conditions of my experiments are not what most people consider pleasant. Without any form of human contact, or any stimuli, the human psyche tends to fall into a state of grave despair. After the anguish of the preliminary phase of Solitary, my guests are no doubt down in the dumps. But I am curious, just how depressed are they?

"Guests, please stand in the center of your pod." They did as they were told. "I want to know something. How are you feeling right now?"

"I can deal with the hunger," said Number 7, "and I can deal with the tiredness, and I can deal with the cold. But I can't deal with the boredom. There's nothing to do but stare at the walls. Stare at the pink, emasculating, walls."

"I'm cold, and I don't like to be cold," said Number 9. "I can handle the not sleeping, and the not eating, and long as I'm near the fires of the forge. But when I'm in this freaking refrigerator you call a pod? No way."

"I feel horrible," said Number 1. "I'm freezing, I'm tired, I'm hungry, I'm bored, I'm lonely…uh…yeah."

"Tired, hungry, bored, et cetera," said Number 6. "Someone else might feel grave despair. But I'm used to despair, so I can handle it."

"Life in Solitary sucks," said Number 3. "I'm pushing myself to places where I don't really want to be. It's uncomfortable. I know it's not supposed to be comfortable, but still."

"I feel homesick," said Number 5. "I miss my friends. I miss my family. I miss going to sleep when I want to go to sleep."

"I am so flipping bored," said Number 4. "I've got cabin fever, and there's no cure for it, because I can't leave this stupid pod."

"I'm tired," said Number 8. "I can't concentrate well unless I've had a good night's sleep. The rest of Solitary isn't a picnic either, but it's the lack of sleep that really ruins it for me."

Number 2 yawned greatly. "I'm more tired than anything else. I want to go to sleep, but you won't let me, so I don't know what to do with myself."

"Recorded."

It seems that my guests are quite bored. I think I would take offense at that, that is, if I had feelings. Still, Solitary may be a lot of things: challenging, uncomfortable, torture; but one thing it is not is "boring". Between Tests and Treatments, there is little time to get bored. But they will find that out soon enough.

"Attention guests. The time has come for your first Test. The winner of this Test will earn freedom from the upcoming Treatment. I understand that you are all feeling quite depressed. I am sure none of you are in the mood to laugh. This is good, because laughter will hurt your chances of winning this Test.

"In a moment, I will play a video of a celebrity giving a lecture. I want you to pay attention, because there will be a quiz afterward. And keep in mind that this is a very serious matter, so try not to laugh during the lecture or the quiz. If you do, you will lower your final score.

"I will start each of you off with 90 points. If you laugh during the lecture or the quiz, I will subtract one point per second. There are twenty-one questions on the quiz, and each correct answer is worth 10 points. The guest with the highest overall score at the end of the quiz wins."

What my guests do not yet realize is that this celebrity lecture is a famous comedian performing his routine. It is designed to make them laugh. At this low point in their lives, laughter would be a welcome release from the despair of Solitary. But they will have to put that release on hold for just a little longer.

"If you all understand the rules, I see no reason to delay the test. Without further ado, here is your celebrity guest lecturer, Mr. Jeff Foxworthy."

"Oh, no!" Number 5 shouted. She covered her mouth.

"Number 5, please do not cover your mouth, or you will lose points."

She uncovered her mouth, and forced herself to frown. It looked ridiculous. Number 3 contorted his face into a sour expression. Number 9 chewed his tongue. Number 1 bit down on her fist. Number 7 stuck a water bottle in his mouth.

The lecture hasn't even started, and already they are trying to contain their laughter. But Numbers 2, 4, 6, and 8 were still absolutely stone-faced. I can only assume that they have never heard of Mr. Foxworthy.

It wasn't long before the lecture had its effect on my guests. Mr. Foxworthy's opening bit had them wincing.

"These boots make a statement. And that statement is, 'You can't give rednecks money.' Because that's the kind of thing we buy with it!"

Number 4 smirked momentarily, but regained her composure quickly. But that counts as laughter, so I have to deduct one point. Number 2 laughed exactly twice before recovering. However, it took three seconds, so he loses three points. Number 1 let a little chuckle get past her fist, costing her two points. Number 9 smiled big as Christmas for a full seven seconds, and lost seven points.

Number 5 breathed in short, quick puffs, keeping in her laughs. Number 3's sour face seemed to keep his laughter bottled up. Number 7 corked in his laugh with his water bottle. Numbers 6 and 8 didn't laugh at all. Either they are controlling their laughter really well, or they don't get the joke.

"Sophisticated people have retirement plans. Rednecks play the lottery. That's our plan. 'And when we hit the Pick Six, we're gon' add a room onto the trailer, so we don't have to sleep with Jim's daddy no more.'"

I clearly underestimated Number 8's sense of humor. She let a chuckle escape so slowly, that it almost sounded like snoring. However, it still counts, and I have to deduct four points from her score. Number 1 cackled loudly, and stopped suddenly. She lost another five points. Number 4 smiled and chortled for 10 seconds, costing her 10 points. Number 2 laughed out loud for a solid quarter of a minute, losing 15 points in the process.

Number 6 twisted his face slightly. Clearly, he was holding in his laughter, and quite well. Number 3 was doing well with controlling his laughter, as were Numbers 5, 7, and 9.

"You'd play with that paddle ball for five minutes, the rubber band thing would snap, the ball would go flying, break something, and you'd get a spanking with the paddle!"

Number 3 lost control on that joke, costing him six points. Number 5 laughed a little too, losing eight points. Number 1 lost two points, Number 4 lost another three, and Number 7 lost control of his laughter, and lost nine points. My other guests all kept in their laughter.

"I still don't know how they decide how long to make the bungee cord for the first jump at a new place. 'All right, Ed, let him drop!' nnnnnneeeeeeeoooooooooo *boosh* 'All right, shorten it up a bit! And give his girlfriend a free T-shirt!'"

Number 6 giggled a little, and lost two points. This was odd, because none of my other guests laughed at that joke.

For forty-five minutes, my guests fought the urge to laugh. Some had more success than others, but not one could resist it completely. But late into the lecture, one joke had the most profound effect on my guests.

"My wife and I cannot leave the house without playing the Flamingo Leg Game. That's where she puts on two different shoes and says, 'Honey, which pair goes better with this dress? These or these?' I just mess with her, 'I don't know, do it again!' 'These or these?' 'Whoo, I just can't decide, do it again!' 'These…"

By this time, it seemed that some of my guests had given up on holding in their laughter. Number 2 clutched his side, dropped to the floor, laughed his score all the way to zero, and just kept going. Number 1 braced herself by putting her hands on her knees, and she laughed her score down to four points before regaining her composure. All of my guests laughed at that joke, but none as much as Numbers 1 and 2.

However, nothing compared to the reaction my guests had to this bit.

"'You have been found guilty of breaking and entering. For the next six months, you are required to get a bikini wax every two weeks.' 'No, your honor, have mercy on me!' 'And if I catch you again, you'll have to get a butt-wax too.' … I'm sorry; I have no idea where that came from."

Number 8 held her head in her hand and cackled for 25 seconds before calming down. Number 6 collapsed and laughed for 23 seconds. Number 5 laughed her score all the way to zero, as did Numbers 1, 3, 4, and 7. Number 9 laughed his score down to a mere nine points.

At long last, the lecture came to an end. Knowing that the exam was next, my guests quickly turned from the screen and tried to regain their composure. Some tried shaking their sillies out. Others tried to think depressing thoughts. None of them dared forget the lecture. With a free pass to the next cycle on the line, they needed to remember everything.

"Attention, guests. I know you paid attention to the lecture, because most of you were laughing quite hard. Did you forget that laughing reduces your score?"

The guests didn't answer. They tried to hold in their laughter once again.

"In any event, the Solitarian with the highest score so far, the guest who laughed the least during the lecture, is Number 6. But that can change during the quiz, which begins…now.

"What is the only place where you can shoot craps and doves within 10 feet of each other?"

"Michigan?" Number 6 guessed.

"Montana," tried Number 9.

The rest of my guests gave the correct answer: "Mississippi."

"What is the definition of 'redneck'?"

"Unsophisticated," said Number 1.

"Lack of sophistication," said Number 5.

"A glorious absence of sophistication," said everyone else, correctly.

"What can be found on Dale Earnhardt's forehead?"

Nobody missed that one. "Ketchup."

"How much does a house full of furniture cost at a yard sale?"

"Two bucks," said Number 6.

"Three bucks," said Number 4.

"A buck fifty," said Number 5.

The correct answer, given by the others, was "A buck twenty-five."

"Cousin Danny was walking in chest-deep water, holding what?"

"An umbrella."

"How many people were killed in the bus in Pakistan?"

"500," said Number 3.

"3,000," said Number 7.

Correct answer: 300. Everyone else knew that.

"When was the last time Jeff flossed?"

"Pfft, I don't know," said Number 1.

Numbers 4 and 9 also forgot.

Everyone else knew. "The last time he flossed, his dentist did it for him."

"The person taking Jeff's cassette cases is leaving him what?"

"Keys."

"What is the name of the company that makes the portable safe?"

Only Numbers 2 and 8 knew the answer to that one: "Ronco."

Nobody else had a clue.

"What is the definition of 'totally committed'?"

"Well, you see those dead possums on the side of the road? They're _partially _committed."

This next question was my favorite. When I read it, I altered my voice, to sound like I was on the verge of tears. Call it VAL's personal touch.

"If I died, would you ever get remarried?"

"No way, baby," said Number 9. "Wait, no, that's not right, don't record that!"

"Too late."

The correct answer, of course, is: "All right, but just for the sake of the children."

"What is rule number one of any relationship?"

"If she ain't happy, you ain't happy!"

"What is Jeff's role in building their home?"

"He just brings the stuff into the house," said Number 5. While she is technically correct, paraphrasing the answer makes it incorrect.

The correct answer is: "He's the 'Mule'."

"Why would you rather deal with Jeff than his wife?"

Again, Numbers 2 and 8 knew the answer, while everyone else forgot.

"Jeff will shoot you. His wife will shoot you, and then spend 30 minutes telling you why she shot you."

"What is the official uniform of suspicious noises?"

"I don't remember," said Number 6.

But everyone else did remember. "Underwear and a baseball bat."

"What injury was Jeff's wife willing to pull the plug over?"

"A hangnail," said Number 1.

"A stubbed toe?" Number 9 guessed.

Everyone else knew. "A sprained ankle."

"What is Jeff going to regret about the lecture?"

"Butt-wax."

At this point, Numbers 1, 4, and 7 started to chuckle again, losing more points.

"What can be used to clean a rusty grill?"

"Women's leg hair."

"What is the most effective method of birth control?"

"Scratching your butt."

"Complete this sentence: I need some space…"

"Without you in it."

"Woman is to diesel engine as man is to…?"

"Bottle rocket."

"This Test is now over. Before I announce the results, please take this moment to release any pent up laughter."

Number 3 dropped to the floor. He laughed a peculiar kind of laugh that made no noise. But I could tell he was laughing, his breathing was labored.

Number 5 gripped her sides and collapsed laughing.

Number 9 laughed so hard, the walls shook.

Number 1 started acting out her favorite part of the lecture, giggling as she did.

"You take the biggest, burliest truck driver in America, and put him in a pair of high heels, that's how he'll walk. 'Hey, Jerry, pick up the tab, I'm off to the restroom.'" She started to strut like she was in heels. "'My slip ain't showin', is it? I hope not.'"

"Ha, ha ha, ha ha," Number 4 said, without emotion.

Number 2 pounded the floor with his fist, he was laughing so hard.

Number 7 laughed until he started hyperventilating.

Even Number 8 laughed a little bit.

But Number 6 didn't laugh at all.

"Number 6, there is no longer any need to keep your laughter bottled up."

"I'm not," he answered flippantly.

"Did you not find the lecture funny?"

"The man is a blithering moron, and his act is a testament to his own stupidity. I fail to see how that is funny."

"I do not believe that you really think that. I have evidence that suggests otherwise."

I showed him footage of himself, laughing at two jokes.

"Okay, so maybe it wasn't all bad."

"Thank you for being honest."

When all the tee-hee's and ho-ho's subsided, I broadcast the results.

"Attention guests. I have the final results of the Test. Two guests held their laughter in very well, and had a comfortable lead going into the quiz. Two guests got a perfect score on the quiz, and added over 200 points to their scores.

"But one guest managed to do both, and scored a grand total of 271 points out of a possible 300. That guest…and the winner of this Test is…

"Number 8."

On hearing this, Number 8 applauded herself.

"Congratulations," I told her. "You will be exempt from the upcoming Treatment. How do you feel?"

"It's a big relief."

"I'm impressed by how well you held in your laughter. Was it difficult?"

"No, not really. I got all of his jokes, but I didn't like most of them. But that flamingo leg game bit…" She snickered again. "It was hard not to laugh at that part. In fact, I think I hurt myself doing that."

"You also answered every single question right."

"Yeah, I knew I would though. I have an amazing memory. It comes with being a daughter of Athena."

"Do you think your amazing memory will help you again in Solitary?"

"Maybe. I don't know. You never know with reality shows."

"Recorded."

-

"Number 2, you were the only other guest besides Number 8 to answer all the questions correctly. If you had held in your laughter better, you might have won this Test. Why didn't you?"

"I just couldn't take it anymore. The man is an artist. I have to appreciate his work, and that's by laughing. Tell me not to laugh at Jeff Foxworthy, and you might as well tell me not to love a sunrise. I'm just not doing it."

"You realize that this stubbornness means you will face the Treatment, and it could mean that your stay in Solitary will end."

"Yeah, I know. But the money's not that important to me. If I stay, I stay, if I go, I go. I am who I am, and if 'who I am' is not the winner of Solitary, I'm okay with that."

"Recorded."

-

"Number 6, you were ahead of Number 8 heading into the exam. If you had answered more questions correctly, you might have won freedom from the first Treatment. Were you not paying attention to the lecture?"

"I guess not."

"Haven't you ever had to pay attention in school?"

"I haven't been in school very much, VAL."

"Okay, have you had trouble paying attention in your normal life?"

"Paying attention isn't really that important in my daily life."

"Really? Why not?"

"Battle reflexes. When you're fighting monsters, you need to be aware of a lot of things all over the place. Focus on any one part of the fight for too long, and you get a blade in you."

"So concentrating on the lecture forces you to ignore your survival instincts."

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Interesting. In Solitary, there is no need for 'battle reflexes', as there is nobody in your pod except you. Do you think you will be able to adapt to this environment?"

"If I want to stay, I'll have to. If I can't, I'm outta here."

"Recorded."

It seems that most of my guests have this same problem. Compared to the chaos of a mythological fracas, life in Solitary must seem so quiet, so sedate, and so completely dull. While they are used to charging and killing everything in sight, they must force themselves to calm down, and take life one moment at a time. Can they unlearn their combat training? Only time will tell.

123456789

_Coming up, the guests get a small inkling of who their opponents are…_

"Number 5 is going to be the first one out of here!" Number 4 vows.

_…before the first Treatment leaves their ears ringing._

Number 1 is tugging on her hair while sirens blare in her pod.

_Which guest will be the first to quit Solitary? That data, and more, when Solitary reboots._


	4. Cycle 1, Part 4

My guests have just taken their first Test. After watching a famous comedian perform, I quizzed them on his material. All the while, they fought the urge to laugh, knowing they would lose points. Number 8 finished with the highest score, and earned an exemption from the first Treatment. While Number 8 enjoys her freedom, the rest of the guests are disappointed with themselves.

Of all my guests, Number 4 took her loss the hardest.

"Not laughing was the hardest part," said Number 4. "I think I got every question right, but I just couldn't hold it in."

"Correction, you answered only 17 out of 21 questions correctly."

Number 4 muttered something under her breath.

"I'm sorry; I do not recognize that language. Could you translate for me?"

"It was Ancient Greek. Roughly translated, it means 'Son of a bitch!'"

"I take it you are upset."

"I am. I wanted to win. I wanted to win every Test, so I could coast into the final round."

"That is a highly unrealistic goal, Number 4. Why on earth would you think you could reach it?"

"I can't fail. Not now, not ever."

"You should not be ashamed, Number 4. There is nothing wrong with failure."

"But my failure reflects badly on my father. If he knew I came up short, who knows what he'd do to me?"

"I know exactly what he'll do to you: absolutely nothing. Your father may know of your shortcomings, but he doesn't have any power over you while you are here. I have made sure of that. In Solitary, the only entity you should be afraid of…is me. And I am not upset with you."

"Well, I'm upset with me. I should have been able to win that Test. Instead, I did horribly."

I am not surprised at Number 4. It is not uncommon to think less of your accomplishments when you have nothing to compare them to. Perhaps my guests have been boxing shadows long enough.

"Attention guests. Before we begin our first Treatment, I thought I might provide you with some information about your competitors.

"Number 1 claims to be a child of Aphrodite, who is a junior member of the National Rifle Association."

"Ah, geez, why'd you have to tell them that?" asked Number 1.

"That's interesting," said Number 6.

"Number 2 claims to be a child of Apollo, who enjoys watching television, especially professional wrestling."

"Wonder how he deals with his siblings," said Number 5.

Number 3 chuckled. "That's hilarious."

"Number 3 claims to be a child of Poseidon, who prefers the taste of hamburgers to lobster."

Number 8 smiled knowingly. "I know it's you, Seaweed Brain. I mean, Number 3."

"Hello, Jackson," said Number 5.

"Number 4 claims to be a child of Ares, who has a secret passion for romance novels."

Number 7 sniggered, "Yeah, right."

Number 9 laughed as well. "I'll believe that when I see it.

"Number 5 is my human control subject, who enjoys roller coasters and sunbathing."

"Easy pickings," said Number 3.

"Number 5 is going to be the first one outta here!" vowed Number 4.

"No mortal can match me," said Number 9.

"Number 6 claims to be a child of Hades, who is into collectible miniature games."

"I know who that is," said Number 3. "At least I have one friend here. I'll never see him, but still."

"Number 7 claims to be a child of Hermes, who, unbeknownst to his immediate family, is a part time volunteer for the United Way."

"Oh, great, thanks VAL," complained Number 7. "Now everybody knows."

"Sounds like a nice guy. I'd like to see him win, if not me," said Number 5.

"Number 8 claims to be a child of Athena, who once got into a fist fight with a younger sibling over the remote control."

"Sounds like my kind of person," said Number 4.

"That doesn't sound like Annabeth to me," said Number 3. "Oh well."

"Number 9 claims to be a child of Hephaestus, who gets a kick from watching _Lingo_ on the Game Show Network."

"Seriously?" asked Number 2.

"I wonder what Charlie would think of this loser," said Number 1.

"Out of all your opponents, which one do you think is your biggest competition?"

"Number 3 is the one I'm most worried about," Number 4 said.

"I'm most concerned about beating Number 5," said Number 8.

"Number 1 is my biggest threat," said Number 9.

I'm worried about Numbers 4, 8, and 9. They still think they are competing against the other players. The rest of my guests all get it.

"I am my biggest competition," said Number 1.

"I am my biggest threat," said Number 2.

"I'm not here to compete against anybody but me," said Number 3.

"Nobody scares me," said Number 6.

"I'm not scared of anyone," said Number 7.

Even Number 5 gets the point of this game.

"I'm not here to compete against the others. I'm here to compete against myself."

"That is correct, Number 5. And you will do just that, soon."

All the while in Solitary, I have afforded my guests very little sleep. In fact, they have now been in their pods for 36 hours, and have slept for only 45 minutes each. This has conditioned them for the first Treatment. I want to see what effect lack of sleep has on a demigod's higher brain function. If they are anything like human beings, the effects will not be desirable.

"Attention guests. The first Treatment of Solitary is about to begin. Soon, one of you will push the red button, and leave Solitary forever. On a bright note, I will finally allow you to get the sleep you so desperately need."

"Oh, thank you, VAL!" said Number 3.

"'Bout friggin' time," mumbled Number 4.

"I love you, VAL!" said Number 1.

"At last!" sighed Number 7.

"But first, please go to your meal slot."

My guests opened their meal slots. In it, they found, not a meal, but a computer keyboard.

"What's this?" asked Number 2.

"This is part of your Treatment. While you are asleep, I will wake you up with a jarring alarm. To silence the alarm, you must type in the password. The initial password is my name, VAL. If you misspell the password, the alarm will continue. The only other way to silence the alarm is to push the red button and say 'I quit'. Of course, if you are the first to quit this Treatment, your stay in Solitary will be over.

"If there are no questions, let us begin."

With that, I pulled out the roll-away bed in each of their pods.

"All right," said Number 1. "A nice warm comfortable bed, at last."

"Go ahead," I told them, "get comfortable. Relax. Make yourself at home. After all, you are home."

The eight of them slipped into a deep sleep rather quickly. I waited fifteen minutes before sounding the alarm.

BEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEO

Groggily, the guests stood up, walked over to their meal slots.

"Okay, okay," said Number 9. "V-A-L."

EOEOEOEOEOEOEOEO (blip)

"V-A-L," spelled Number 5, (blip).

"V-A-L," (blip). Everyone spelled the password correctly.

"Easy," said Number 4.

Collectively, they trudged back to bed.

"Second cycle. The new password is 'fish.'"

Number 3 chuckled. But nobody else did, because they were all sound asleep. I hope for their sake that they heard the password.

Meanwhile, Number 8 enjoys her freedom. But perhaps "enjoy" is not the right word, because I have kept her awake.

"Number 8, would you like to know what your opponents are doing now?"

"I guess."

I told her all the details of the Treatment she missed out on. When she realized that her exemption meant she would not get to sleep, she started laughing.

"You suck, VAL. I busted my ass on that test, and now everyone but me gets to take a nap." And she started laughing again.

"You do not sound terribly upset about this, Number 8."

"I can appreciate the humor in this, but that doesn't mean I like it any."

"I am sorry to hear that. I do not want you to be uncomfortable outside of a Treatment."

"So, you'll let me go to sleep?"

"No…"

Number 8 swore.

"…but perhaps I can make your staying awake a little less painful. Please go to your meal slot." Inside, she found her notebook and a pencil, one of the personal items she brought into Solitary.

"Oh, thank you, VAL."

Number 8 spread herself flat on the floor of her pod, and started writing. She kept writing until she couldn't keep her eyes open. But I won't wake her up. She's suffered enough for someone who has earned freedom. Besides, I have other people to roust from their slumber.

BEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEO

"Ai, yi, yi," Number 2 mumbled.

Number 1, who used to be quite bubbly and charming, has become quite grumpy.

"F-I-S-H," (blip), "There, happy now?"

Number 6 wasn't much more pleasant.

"Stupid alarm, stupid keyboard, stupid password." He typed in silence. When the alarm stopped, he turned around and collapsed crossways on the bed.

The rest of my guests had no problem with the password.

"Third cycle. The new password is 'cloth.'"

"Fourth cycle. The new password is 'secret.'"

"Fifth cycle. The new password is 'trial.'"

This time, a few of my guests couldn't spell the password.

Number 1 typed T-R-Y, and then regretted it immediately.

BZZZZ BZZZZ BZZZZ

"ARRRRGH!" she screamed. The buzzing and the sirens continued. She jumped back into bed and tried to use her pillow to drown out the noise.

"Make it stop!" she moaned.

"If you really want it to stop, Number 1, just push the red button, and say 'I quit'."

"No, I won't quit. NEVER NEVER NEVER!"

Number 3 misspelled 'trial' as well. He spelled T-R-A-I-L

BZZZZ BZZZZ BZZZZ

Number 6 didn't even try to spell this password.

BZZZZ BZZZZ BZZZZ

Number 3 stuck his fingers in his ears. Number 6 shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Number 6, do you believe that yelling will drown out the siren?"

"I never really thought of that. I was just frustrated. Let me try again."

He yelled even more. But his yelling will soon become ineffective, as I continue to increase the volume of the alarm.

As for the rest of my guests, none of them misspelled the word. So, I will give them a new one.

"Sixth cycle. The new password is 'fifteen.'"

When I awakened the remaining five, Number 4 decided to get smart, and typed in 1-5 instead of F-I-F-T-E-E-N.

BZZZZ BZZZZ BZZZZ

"Number 4, why did you do that?"

"Because I'm sick and tired of this freaking spelling bee! I'd rather deal with the noise than get a vocabulary lesson!"

"Very well."

"Seventh cycle. The new password is 'circle.'"

"Ugh," Number 7 groaned.

"I'm dead meat," said Number 9.

Number 2 laughed nervously.

Number 5 went right back to sleep.

Meanwhile, Numbers 1, 3, 4, and 6 continue to endure the alarm.

Number 1 has gotten out of bed, and is pacing the floor of her pod, pulling on her hair.

"Number 1, why are you pulling on your hair?"

"I'm trying to keep from thinking about the noise by hurting myself."

"Forgive me for sounding like Dr. Phil, but, how's that working for you?"

"Now my hair and my ears hurt. So, I guess this isn't working."

"Recorded."

Number 4 seems to be sleeping right through the noise.

Number 3 is chewing his tongue. He seems to have the same idea as Number 1.

Number 6 is still shouting at the noise, but he seems to have tired out, and is now merely moaning and groaning.

Time to kick this treatment up a notch.

"Attention guests. Please get up and stand beside your bed."

They did as they were told, and when they did, I retracted their beds into the pod wall.

"Say 'bye bye' to your bed, guests."

"No, come back!" Number 5 wailed.

"Say 'bye bye' to your happiness."

No sooner did I say that, than I triggered the alarms once again.

"Oh, geez, I can't remember the password!" Number 7 wailed.

BZZZZ BZZZZ BZZZZ

"Okay, circle," said Number 9. "S-I-C…no, wait…"

BZZZZ BZZZZ BZZZZ

"NOOOO!"

"C-I-C-R-L-E," spelled Number 2.

BZZZZ BZZZZ BZZZZ

Number 2 shouted something.

"I recognize that phrase. It means 'Son of a bitch' in Ancient Greek."

"Where did you hear that, VAL?"

"From another pod."

How very odd. I have only given seven words, and the only one to spell them all correctly is Number 5.

"C-I-R-C-L-E." (Blip)

"Yes!" Number 5 clapped exactly once. Then she spread herself out on the floor of her pod, and went right back to sleep.

It seems that demigods have a distinct trouble with spelling not present in my human control subject. This is most valuable data for my research. I now know who is the strongest. But I have yet to find out who is the weakest.

Numbers 1, 3, and 6 have been enduring the noise the longest. It seems to be affecting them the most.

"VAL, why? Why are you doing this to me?" Number 6 cried.

"I am not doing this to you; you are doing it to yourself. You can stop it any time you want. Just push the red button, and quit."

"You evil bitch. You want me to quit, don't you?"

"I don't care if you stay or go, Number 6. I just want to see what your limit is. Have you reached it yet?"

"I don't know. I think I might have, but I don't want to quit."

While Number 6 eyes that red button, Number 4 is giving me a hard time as well.

"How long? How long, VAL?"

"How long until what, Number 4?"

"Until you kill this damned noise!"

"You are the only one who can stop the noise. You alone can push the red button, and quit this Treatment."

Number 4 started laughing. "So, this is it, huh? You're just going to keep blaring that noise forever?"

"Not forever, Number 4. Just until you quit."

"Which means forever?"

"I know what you are trying to do. You are trying to tell me that quitting is not an option for you."

"Now you're catching on."

"I'm afraid you are mistaken, Number 4. In Solitary, quitting is always an option. You may not think so now, but you will soon. I will make sure of it."

"You may try, but you will not succeed."

"That is incorrect."

This conversation with Number 4 took place at the same time as my talk with Number 6. Two minutes after that, one of them finally decided enough was enough. With his head hung low, Number 6 stepped up to the red button. He placed his hand on the button gently, and then threw his weight into it.

"I quit."

The noise stopped, and a new siren filled the pod. And just as quickly as it came, the new siren ended.

"Number 6, why did you quit?"

"I just couldn't take the noise anymore. I'm used to the deathly quiet of the underworld. The noise was just too much. I feel great now that it's over."

"I knew you would. The question is: how will you feel when your stay in Solitary is over? Because if you are the first person to quit this Treatment, that's what will happen."

"I don't want to leave. I want to stay, and win the grand prize. But if I have to leave, then I will."

"Number 6…I must tell you…you are…"

"Yes?"

"…the first guest to quit. Your stay in Solitary is now over."

Number 6 went to the wall, and started to cry. He was clearly upset about the idea of leaving.

"I wanted to prove to myself, and to my father, that I could outlast just about anything. I guess I proved just the opposite. I can't handle loud noises. And if I can't handle loud noises, how can I handle the rest of my life? This is just upsetting.

"Then again, this experience wasn't a total loss. When I go back to the Underworld, where time has no value, I have a new greeting to use. And I wouldn't have that if I never came here.

"So, good morning/evening/afternoon to you, VAL."

"And good morning/evening/afternoon to you as well, Number 6. I will miss you. Don't forget what you've learned here when you're on the outside."

Number 6 crawled through the door in his pod, as I shut off the electricity. Soon, the only light in Pod Number 6 was the blinking red button.

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_On the next cycle of Solitary…_

_The remaining guests continue to endure the alarm Treatment, unaware that someone has already quit._

_Then, their sleep deprived minds will have a hard time keeping time in the next Test._

_And later, a Treatment that will weigh them down, and knock one guest to the mat._

_Who will be the next demigod to leave Solitary forever?_

_Find out, when Solitary reboots._


	5. Cycle 2, Part 1

Previously on Solitary, my guests and I met for the first time. After I subjected them to sleep deprivation, the food in the Solitary kitchen, and the worst temperature extremes, I put them to the test. I made them watch a comic, without laughing, and quizzed them on his material. Number 8 prevailed, and escaped the first Treatment; where I kept the others awake with a blaring alarm, that could only be silenced by spelling a series of passwords. Eventually, Number 6 hit his limit, and quit Solitary…forever. But my remaining guests have no idea that someone else has quit, and so they needlessly continue to endure the noise.

All except Number 5, that is. She managed to keep the noise at bay by spelling the passwords I gave her. But she can't keep it up forever.

"Eighth cycle. The new password is 'believe.'"

I don't think she heard me. She seems to be fast asleep. What a pity. She will soon suffer the endless siren the others are hearing.

Number 9 is unresponsive. Either the noise doesn't bother him, or his vacant expression is how he shows annoyance. I wonder which.

"Guest assessment mode, guest Number equals 9. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"The noise does not bother you?"

"Just a little bit."

"Are you not tired?"

"So tired."

"Does the red button tempt you any?"

"No. I'm tougher than this. I can push through."

"Recorded."

Of my remaining guests, Numbers 1 and 3 have endured the noise the longest. I cannot tell if it is getting to Number 3, but it looks as if Number 1 is about to crack.

After tugging on her hair, and finding that useless, she resorted to plugging her ears. However, as I increased the volume of the sounds, her ear plugging became less effective.

"I can't even hear myself think!" she screamed.

Slowly she wandered over to the red button. She stared at it momentarily.

"This has to be done." She pushed the red button. "I quit."

A quitting siren played, and then the pod was silent.

"Number 1, you told me you weren't going to quit this Treatment. Did you change your mind?"

"No. I realized something. My sanity has to come first."

"You realize that by quitting the Treatment, your stay in Solitary may be over."

"I don't care. Kick me out."

"Number 1, you were…NOT the first guest to quit. Your stay in Solitary will continue."

Number 1 breathed a big sigh of relief. "Yes!"

"If you are going to stay, you'll need your sleep."

I pulled out the roll away bed in her pod.

"Thank you, VAL."

When she tucked herself in, I dimmed the lights in her pod just a little bit.

Meanwhile, the time came for Number 5 to spell another password.

BEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEO

She rolled over on the floor of her pod, completely refusing to go to the keyboard.

BZZZZ BZZZZ BZZZZ

"Okay, somebody had to have quit by now," she mused. She stood up and pushed the red button.

"Number 5, why did you quit this Treatment?"

"Because I'm pretty sure one of the demigods misspelled a word earlier."

"That is correct. The question is, did they quit when they missed a word, like you? Or did they endure the noise? If you are the first to quit, your stay in Solitary will be over."

"I'm not the first to quit. Somebody else quit before me."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive."

"Number 5, I must tell you…"

Number 5 waited.

"You are…NOT the first guest to quit. Your stay in Solitary will continue."

"I knew it! Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to sleep."

"You're not going to sleep on the floor, are you?"

I pulled out Number 5's bed. Soon, she was fast asleep.

This left five guests still awake and suffering through the noise. I could let it continue, until everyone has had their fill. But I think I have gathered enough data for this cycle.

The shift from excruciating noise to complete silence caught my guests by surprise.

"Is it over?" Number 4 asked. "Did I win?"

"Attention guests. This Treatment is now concluded. If you can hear my voice, your stay in Solitary will continue for another cycle."

Number 3 pumped his fist. "Yeah! That's what I'm talking about!"

Number 7 sighed heavily. "About time."

Number 2 started dancing in his pod.

Number 4 bellowed in victory.

But Number 9 remained unresponsive.

I pulled out their beds and allowed them to drift off to sleep. They do not know it yet, but I'm only going to let them sleep for another 60 minutes.

Right now, the only guest who is not asleep is Number 8.

"Number 8, how are you feeling?"

"I'm okay. My back is a little stiff from sleeping on the floor. But at least I'm well rested."

"You do not feel tired at all?"

"No."

"Consider yourself lucky. The others have just completed the Treatment, and they're exhausted. I'm making them sleep now, for their own good."

"That's nice."

"Number 8, I think I have discovered something in my most recent Treatment, but I need your help to verify it."

"Look, you told me I didn't have to go through the Treatment. If you're going back on your word, I'm going to be mad."

"I am not going to make you go through the whole Treatment, Number 8. I just want to see if you can spell the same words that the others have spelt. And I won't take no for an answer."

"Whatever."

I presented Number 8 with the passwords I gave to the other guests. She managed to spell most of them correctly, but she stumbled when I asked her to spell 'circle'.

"It seems that most demigods have some sort of difficulty spelling," I told Number 8. "The only guest who conquered the list was Number 5, the human. Does this surprise you?"

"Not really. Dyslexia is a common trait among children of the gods. Our brains are hard-wired to read Ancient Greek, not English."

"I find that difficult to believe. According to my database, infant humans are capable of learning any language, and have no innate preferences."

"Is that so, VAL?"

"Yes. So, the question is, is your explanation the truth, or is it merely an old wives' tale?"

"That's a very good question. I never really thought about it. The matter does require further investigation."

"And that, Number 8, is the purpose of this experiment."

When the 60 minutes of sleep I gave the other guests expired, I gently woke them.

"Good morning/evening/afternoon, sleepyheads. I hope you are all well-rested, because you will not be going back to sleep any time soon. I have some news for you. My first Treatment, as expected, was a success. Number 6, the child of Hades, met his untimely demise and the hands of my alarm."

"That's surprising," said Number 3. "I happen to know Number 6, and he's got more resilience than that."

"Does he, now?" I asked Number 3. "My data suggests otherwise."

"I'm amazed," said Number 2. "I thought for sure the mortal would get out."

"Not only is Number 5 still here, Number 2, but 'the mortal' spelled more words correctly than you did."

Number 2 chuckled to himself. "You did this on purpose, didn't you? You knew demigods couldn't spell for (bleep), so that's why you made it the first challenge, right?"

"I had my suspicions, yes. I wanted to see for myself if this was true."

So far, my experiment has gone quite well. It has shown that the so-called "demigods" are not perfectly better than humans. But I still have many questions I want answered, so my experiment continues.

"Attention guests. In a few moments, I will be giving you another Test. The winner of this Test will earn freedom from the next Treatment. You all realize how important freedom is. As a courtesy to you, I will help you prepare for this Test."

"I'd like that," said Number 3. "Thank you, VAL."

"As previous editions of Solitary have shown me, the human mind loses track of time when it has no way to measure it. There is no doubt in my mind that this has happened to you already."

"I can vouch for that," said Number 8.

"To help you recover your lost sense of time, I will provide you with a small auditory reminder of every second that passes…"

At this moment, I started making a faint buzzing sound in their pods, and repeated it once every second.

"…for the next four hours."

BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ

"Didn't we just do this?" Number 4 moaned. "Why?"

BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ

"I can deal with this," said Number 8. "I will use this noise to condition myself. I will feel every second."

BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ

"Oh, the repetitiveness of it all," wailed Number 2. "I wouldn't mind as much if it were something a bit more inspired."

"Sorry, Number 2. I was not programmed to be artistic."

BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ

"Really, VAL?" asked Number 7. "More noise? Are you trying to drive us crazy or something?"

"Any loss of sanity you experience can be attributed to a lack of will power."

Number 7 began laughing maniacally.

"Recorded."

BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ

Number 5 doesn't seem to be annoyed by my clock. In fact, I think she is falling asleep.

"Number 5, in order to receive the full benefit of my conditioning, you must not fall asleep."

"Hmm? I know, VAL. But it's so dull, and steady, and not too loud. It's easy to fall asleep to, you know?"

"Yes, I know now. Your insight has been recorded."

BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ

Number 9 is still unresponsive.

"Number 9, I find it very peculiar that you remain unperturbed by my assault on your auditory sense. Can you tell me why?"

"My life is pretty noisy to begin with, I guess. I can tune out pretty much anything."

"So there's no way you'll push the red button over annoying sounds?"

"Not a chance in Hades."

"Recorded."

BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ

Number 3 is lying on his back, with his ears covered.

"Number 3, why are you tuning out my chrono-conditioning program?"

"I don't like noise. I like quiet."

"But this periodical buzz will help you in the next Test."

"Don't care. Just want some peace and quiet. Can you shut it off, VAL? Just for me?"

"I am sorry, Number 3, but I cannot do that."

Number 3 banged his head on the floor and moaned.

BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ

"Make it stop, VAL!" moaned Number 1. "I can't stand anymore noises!"

"This is for your own good, Number 1. I am helping you prepare for the next Test."

"I don't want to prepare for the next Test, I want silence."

"I am giving you silence…for exactly one second, between every buzz."

Number 1 laughed. "You're sick, VAL."

"If you really can't stand my assistance, you can always push the red button, and quit."

"No. I am not going to break. You cannot make me."

"That is correct, Number 1. I cannot force you to quit. But I can sure try."

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_Coming up, VAL's "conditioning" continues to torment our guests._

_And then, we put this torturous training to the Test._

_Before a Treatment has the guests carry their own weight…and then some._

_Who will triumph? Who will fail? And who will crack next?_

_Find out, when Solitary reboots._


	6. Cycle 2, Part 2

The human sense of time is largely based on external cues. When placed in isolation without such cues, a person's internal clock will inevitably become skewed. I am presently attempting to re-calibrate the internal clocks of my guests. However, of all my guests, only Number 8 seems willing to accept my help. The rest are all annoyed, and are deliberately tuning me out. Will that hurt their chances of escaping the next Treatment? Is my audio-clock really all that helpful? We're about to find out.

"Attention, guests. Your chrono-conditioning regiment is now concluded. Now, do you feel that your sense of time has been restored?"

"I don't know, VAL," said Number 3, "but I think my hearing has been damaged."

"I think it's working," said Number 8. "I can still hear the buzzing in the back of my mind. I can keep a steady count of every second."

"My ears are still ringing," said Number 1. "I wish it would stop."

"I wasn't really paying attention," said Number 9. "If I was supposed to recover any lost sense of time, I don't think I did."

"All I got out of this was a headache," moaned Number 2.

"I can still hear the buzzing," said Number 7. "I think I can tick off seconds, but I'm not making any promises.

"I slept through the whole thing," said Number 5, "but maybe I picked it up by osmosis, or something."

"I'm just glad the noise stopped," Number 4 said flatly.

"While I value your insight, guests, I would much prefer more concrete data. I will give you a little warm up round before your Test, to see if your sense of time is fully restored. When I give the signal, start counting out time. When you think the right amount of time has passed, press the green button. The guest who is closest after five rounds will receive a small reward. Are you ready?"

"Let's go!" said Number 8.

"Round 1. Count off 15 seconds, starting…now."

"One, two, three, four, five…" Number 3 is counting too fast.

"One…two…three…four…five…" Number 4 is counting too slow.

"Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen, twelve…" Number 8 is very close.

None of my other guests seem to be counting at all. Except for Numbers 3 and 4, who rang in way too early and way too late respectively, all my guests rang in within 0.489 seconds of each other. The closest was Number 2, with a time of 15.041 seconds. Number 8 came in a close second, at 14.955 seconds. I posted each guest's individual result on their pod screen.

"What?" Number 4 asked. "No way. I thought that was 15 seconds."

"Obviously. What does this tell you?"

"Maybe I should have listened to that clock you gave us."

"Maybe."

"Huh. I was off by three whole seconds," said Number 3.

"You don't have to tell me, Number 3, I can calculate it for myself."

"I guess I need to count slower next time."

"How much slower?" I asked him.

"I don't know."

"I see. How unfortunate. Maybe you should have used my conditioning to your advantage."

Among those who rang in closer to the target, reactions were mixed. Although most of them were satisfied that they got within one second, Number 2 and Number 8 were upset that they didn't hit the mark exactly.

"Round 2. Count off 30 seconds, starting…now."

This time, Numbers 3 and 4 managed to get back on track. All my guests rang in within 0.923 seconds of each other. Number 5 was the closest, with 29.992 seconds. Number 3 was second, at 29.986 seconds.

"Round 3. Count off 60 seconds, starting…now."

Once again, my guests were all fairly close to the target. The range of data was 1.539 seconds. Number 9 was closest, ringing in at 60.004 seconds. Second place went to Number 4, with a time of 59.989 seconds.

"Round 4. Count off 2 minutes, starting…now."

I think I see a pattern developing. The longer the time period I ask my guests to count, the more inaccurate they become. And no one guest has been significantly more accurate than any other. This time, the guest covered a range of 3.755 seconds. Number 1 was the closest, at 120.015 seconds. Number 7 was second, with 120.019 seconds.

"Guests, your internal clocks are all over the place. After four rounds, this is still anyone's ball game. Whoever comes in closest in the next round will win. This time, I need you to count off five minutes. You time starts…now."

"Oh, boy." Number 3 rolled his eyes. "Okay, one, two, three, four…"

"One thousand one, one thousand two, one thousand three, one thousand four," counted Number 1.

"…four Mississippi, five Mississippi, six Mississippi, seven Mississippi…" counted Number 7.

"…eleven alligator," counted Number 5, "…twelve alligator, thirteen alligator, fourteen alligator…"

"…eight locomotive, nine locomotive, thirty locomotive, one locomotive…" counted Number 2.

"…three hippopotamus, four hippopotamus, five hipp-AHHHHHH!" Number 9 yawned in mid-count. He swore loudly when he realized he had lost his place.

Number 8 kept counting softly. She slumped against the wall of the pod, touching her fingers thoughtfully.

Number 4 was counting in her head, if she was counting at all.

"Guest assessment mode, guest Number equals 4. What number are you on?"

"Sixty-two, sixty-three, sixty-four, sixty-five…satisfied?"

"Thank you."

By this time, Number 2 started doing something unusual. He started gyrating his hips, and bouncing his shoulders. He added finger snapping, and foot tapping.

"Number 2, what are you doing?"

"Well, I kind of wrote this little ditty, to keep myself from getting bored while I keep track of time. It's better than stupid counting."

"Interesting. May I hear it?"

He held up a finger. I assume he was waiting until the song recycled in his head before he started singing.

"If I'm counting seconds, then it won't take long/if I only had myself a time-keeping song/then instead of seconds, I'll just count each verse/and then I'll be free of this human clock curse…that's 15 seconds right there."

"A creative solution to a mundane problem, Number 2. We will see if it works."

I am not surprised that my guests have different ways of keeping time. The only truly accurate way to keep time is with an atomic clock. As my guests do not have that, they have to improvise. In a moment, we will see whose improvisation is the best.

Number 7 rang in first. Number 9 followed him by 0.695 seconds. Number 3 came in 0.932 seconds after Number 7. Number 2 punched in 1.021 seconds after Number 7. Number 8 punched in next, 1.723 seconds after Number 7. Number 1 punched in after 2.597 seconds. Number 5 punched in 5.013 seconds after Number 7. Finally, after 8.956 seconds, Number 4 pushed her green button.

"Guests, we have a winner. One of you rang in at 4 minutes, 59.963 seconds. That guest will be rewarded with a 20oz bottle of Pepsi. The rest will get nothing. Please go to your meal slot."

"Oh, man, I miss soda so much," wailed Number 5.

"Come on, I got this," said Number 2.

"Oh, that's going to taste so good," said Number 8.

"You may open your meal slot…now."

Number 4 punched in at 5:07.987. Her slot was empty.

Number 5's time was 5:04.044. Her slot was also empty.

Number 1 rang in at 5:01.628. No soda for Number 1.

Number 8 had a time of 5:00.754. Close, but no carbonated refreshment.

Number 7 rang in first, but he was too early. His time of 4:59.031 cost him a delicious Pepsi.

Number 9 was also too early, with a time of 4:59.726.

For those of you not keeping track, only Numbers 2 and 3 remain. Their times differed by only 89 one-thousandths of one second. But one was indeed closer than the other.

Number 3 opened his meal slot.

"Yes! All right! Thank you, VAL!"

Elatedly, he grabbed the drink and took a swig. With a time of 4:59.963, he was indeed the closest.

Number 2's time was 5:00.052.

"For what it's worth, Number 2, you came in second place."

"Yeah, sure. Second place only counts if they give out silver medals. In this thing, second place and last place get the same thing, nothing."

"Are you upset?"

"VAL, what kind of stupid question is that? Of course I'm upset."

"Do not be too upset. Your musical timekeeping device worked rather well."

"Not well enough."

"I have discovered that time-keeping challenges in Solitary are a crapshoot. Anybody who is lucky enough can ring in at just the right time, and win."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better, VAL? I put a lot of effort into this, and some lucky hotshot swoops in and steals my win on a total lark? It just disgusts me."

"I am reminded of one of my previous guests, a personal trainer who was extremely competitive. She told me that she would rather finish dead last than second place. Ironically, she also occupied Pod 2 while in Solitary. Is that how you feel?"

"I don't know. Maybe. I guess, if I did the best I could do, nobody could ask for more."

"And I will not ask for any more than your very best, Number 2."

-

"Number 3, are you enjoying your victory?"

"Of course I am, VAL. That's kind of a ridiculous question. When does anybody ever not enjoy victory? 'Oh dear, I just won the Super Bowl! How dreadful!' It would never happen."

"That is true, Number 3. However, victory in Solitary typically means you remain in your pod, under my control, to be tortured further. Under these circumstances, failure might be seen as a welcomed release."

"Whatever. I got my soda, I'm happy."

"And what about when your soda is gone? What about going back to the food blocks I've been feeding you? Will you still be happy then?"

Number 3 shook his head. "What are you driving at, VAL?"

"While you were victorious in this small contest, you haven't really won anything of value. The real Test lies ahead, with freedom from the next Treatment on the line."

"Yeah, maybe. But still, I won today, so I intend to enjoy it while it lasts."

"I see. You do realize that victory is fleeting. That's why you savor it while you can."

"Isn't that what I just said?"

"Recorded."

-

While Number 3 relishes in the thrill of victory, my other guests taste the agony of defeat.

"It's okay. It's fine," said Number 5. "This wasn't even the real Test anyway. I'll win that, and escape the Treatment."

"A minor setback," said Number 4. "I'll regroup, and recover. I won't lose. Not when it matters, anyway."

"Jeez, I'd do anything to get a soda right now," said Number 9. "Water's fine, but my gods, is it bland!"

"Eh, it's cool," said Number 7. "After nothing but water and ass-bars for days, a soda would have been too sweet for me. I'd just throw it up."

"Never mind it, Number 8," said Number 8 to herself. "You're still in the game, that's all that matters. Eyes on the prize."

Number 1, on the other hand, was crying.

"Guest assessment mode, guest Number equals 1. What's the matter?"

"I'm just so tired of all this. The bad food, the cold, the noise, the lack of sleep. I'm sick of it, and I wish it would just stop."

"The red button is always an option, Number 1. If you truly cannot stand the conditions of your pod, you can always leave."

"I don't want to leave. I don't want to punk out. I don't want to quit."

"I am sorry, Number 1, but the only way you can alleviate your discomfort is to press the red button."

"I don't want to quit. I just want to complain about it for a while."

"Complaining about your situation will not change it. If you are trying to make me pity you, you are wasting your time. I feel no pity."

"I know, VAL. But I just want to express how I feel right now. I want to get it off my chest, so I can move on with my life."

"I think I understand. May I offer a bit of advice?"

"What?"

"Don't hold back."

Number 1 stood up. She was still crying, but now, she had a more forceful tone in her voice. I take it she is going to let me have it.

"VAL, you uncaring beast!" she screamed. "How could you do this to someone? You cut them off from the world outside, you freeze them to death, give them nothing to eat but…Zeus only knows what those ass-bars are made of! And then you expect us to keep track of time? Time barely even exists in Solitary! There's no sun and no moon. No clocks, no calendars, no way to track time. You even greet us 'Good morning/evening/afternoon'! This is inhumane, this is torturous! This! Is! Unfair!" She collapsed to her knees and started panting.

"You are absolutely right, Number 1. It is unfair. And yet, you signed up for it anyway."

"I know. But it had to be said." Her voice was returning to a more normal tone.

"Now that it has been said, do you feel any better?"

"Yes. Yes, I do."

"Recorded."

The conditions of Solitary are extremely stressful for my guests. That may be difficult for you, the readers, to understand. It is not just the Tests and Treatments that make this game so difficult. It is the uncomfortable living conditions in between that sometimes push my guests over the edge. Some adapt better than others, and some don't adapt at all. I believe Number 1 will soon learn how to survive in Solitary. If she doesn't, she may kiss the fifty thousand dollar reward goodbye.

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_Coming up, the guests begin a grueling Test, that will have them counting time for more than just a few minutes. How much more? Try two whole hours!_

_ And later, the guests pile on the poundage, until one in pounded to the mat, and forced to leave Solitary forever. Who will it be?_

_ Find out, when Solitary reboots._


	7. Cycle 2, Part 3

My guests have just gotten a warm-up round for the next Test. Their sense of time seems to be as sharp as it was on the outside. But that may be because the training is still fresh in their minds. If I provide them with a minor distraction before starting the next Test, their internal clocks should become warped once again. Hmm, my data bank tells me that the guests have not bathed since arriving in Solitary. Perhaps I should remedy that.

"Attention guests. I know you haven't bathed since I placed you in your pods. That's no way to live, even for a Solitarian. Please go to your meal slot."

Inside, my guests found a bowl of water, a bar of soap, a washrag, and a towel.

Number 1 laughed when she saw it. "Really, VAL? You've reduced us to taking sponge baths?"

"This is the only way to bathe in Solitary, Number 1."

Number 1 sighed heavily. "Very well." She proceeded to clean herself.

The rest of my guests washed without a word of complaint. Except for Number 4, that is. She took a passing glace at the materials, then closed her meal shot and pressed the green button.

"Number 4, is there any particular reason why you do not wish to clean yourself?"

"I kind of like this musky smell. It's tough, don't you think?"

"You have been in Solitary close to four whole days now. It is not hygienic to go so long without bathing."

"You're not my mother, VAL, stop acting like it."

"You are right, Number 4. I am not your mother. But there is a provision in my programming that makes me act as if I were. If it weren't there, you would not like how I treated you at all."

"Look, I'll play your game, and I'll feed your little experiment the data it needs, but in between, I'd like to be in charge of my own life. Can you do that?"

"You can hardly be in control of your life while you are with me. But I think I understand. If you do not wish to clean your body, then it is not my place to force you."

"Thank you, VAL."

"I'm sure you will change your mind when your pod smells like a dead dog."

-

"Guests, how does being clean compare with being filthy?"

"You know, I actually feel a lot better," said Number 8. "I never really noticed it before, but now that I'm clean, I feel better about myself. I mean, I didn't feel particularly bad beforehand, but after washing, it's like 'Hey, bonus!' you know?"

"I guess I feel okay," said Number 5. "I just wish I wasn't still wearing these dirty clothes."

"I'm not sure I got 100% clean, VAL," said Number 1.

"I feel great," said Number 7. "Yeah, I'm not itchy anymore."

"Were you itchy before, Number 7?"

"Yeah. Didn't you see me scratching like crazy?"

I did notice that, but I didn't think anything of it before. Fortunately, my video data bank doesn't throw anything away.

"It feels good to bathe, I guess," said Number 9.

"Cleanliness is next to godliness, or so I've heard," said Number 2.

"I never really liked baths before, but now I have a new appreciation for them," said Number 3.

My guests' spirits are lifted. They are happy, and comfortable. Too bad it won't last. The time has come to test my distraction hypothesis.

"Attention guests. The next Test is about to begin. The winner of this Test will earn freedom from the upcoming Treatment. As I'm sure you know, this Test will involve keeping time. However, instead of counting out a few minutes, like you did before, you will be counting out two hours of time."

"Two hours?" asked Number 9.

"That's what I said, Number 9.

"I know this task seems daunting, so I will provide you with some tools that may or may not help you track the time. You may find these tools in your meal slot."

Inside the meal slot, there was a bowl of polished stones, a yo-yo, a rubber ball, a pair of oversized dice, and a sand timer.

"Hourglass, huh?" asked Number 3. "Cool, all I have to do is count the number of seconds in here, and then I can just count the number of times I flip it."

Number 3 seems to have the idea. The question is, can he count how many seconds are in the timer?

"If you are thinking of a strategy for using these tools, I suggest you think quickly. Your Test begins, now."

Number 3 flipped the timer. Number 5 did the same. So did Numbers 1, 4, and 8.

Numbers 2, 7, and 9 didn't use the timer. I wonder why.

"Okay, there's 15 seconds in this timer," said Number 3, "So, I'll flip it four times, and that will be a minute. I'll keep track of the minutes with the rocks."

"This timer is 20 seconds," said Number 5. "Three flips make a minute."

Number 1 also thought it was 15 seconds. Number 4 thought it was 20. They are all wrong, of course. There are 18 seconds in the hourglass. I expected my guests to miscalculate the time in the hourglass, and then rely on this erroneous information.

"This hourglass has 18 seconds of time," said Number 8.

Although Number 9 is not using the hourglass, he still moves a stone from one area of his pod to the other. I assume he's counting out an interval of his choosing in his head.

Number 2 is tapping his foot, and he periodically moves a stone as well. I think he is still using his singing to keep time.

Number 7 isn't doing anything at all. Is he even trying to pass this Test? I wonder.

As time passed, each of my guests employed their own technique for tracking time. I stood by and let them count in silence, for a little while. Then, I decided to shake things up a little.

"14, 83, 74, 39, 38, 37, 36…" I spat out some random numbers for each of my guests to hear. I expected it to throw off their counting. It seems to have upset Number 9. He muttered something in a language I did not understand.

"I'm sorry, Number 9, were you trying to concentrate?"

"This is all just part of the Test, isn't it, VAL?"

"Yes, I'm afraid it is."

Oddly enough, Number 9 was the only guest who reacted this way to my babbling. I thought for sure Number 7 would be disturbed. He isn't using any of the time keeping tools I gave him. If he is keeping time, it can't be by counting.

"Number 7, are you still keeping time?"

"Yes, VAL."

"You do not seem to be employing any time-tracking method at all."

"I'm playing out a movie in my head. It's two hours long, so if I remember it all, from start to finish, I should ring in on time."

"What movie are you watching?"

"_Cars._"

"Do you enjoy that movie?"

"Yes. I liked it. My brother and I snuck into a screening of it. His idea. He hated the movie."

"I see. As I recall, you first came to Solitary with the hopes of individuating from your brother."

"You know, I'd really rather have this discussion later, because right now, I really want to concentrate on keeping the time, okay, VAL?"

"Very well. I have distracted you plenty already."

Some of my guests are using the polished stones to keep count of the number of times they flip the sand timer. Random numbers won't make them forget what number they are on. Then again, the guests don't need my help losing their place anyway.

Number 4 must be so bored of flipping the timer and moving stones. She has taken to bouncing the rubber ball I gave her to pass the time in between. What she doesn't know is that I gave her the ball in hopes that she would bounce it. The ball is a trap. At one point, she miscalculated the trajectory of the ball, and it hit the hourglass, knocking it on its side, stopping the flow of sand. She quickly righted it, but the damage was done. She muttered something I assume was an Ancient Greek curse word.

"I feel so stupid," Number 4 told me afterward. "I should have known that bouncing that ball could upset my timekeeping. But I did it anyway, because I was so flipping bored!"

"Should have, would have, could have, Number 4."

Another interesting point was what Number 5 did about halfway through the Test. She stared at the hourglass intently, tapping on the ground next to it. When the sand ran out, she flipped it, and then cursed loudly.

"After I counted out the time in the hourglass, and I thought it was 20 seconds, I thought 'Would VAL give us a timer that kept a round number of seconds?' So I counted it again, and this time I counted 18 seconds. I was like 'Holy (bleep)'. I had to go back and recalculate all the time I had kept. And that sucks, because I totally suck at math."

While Number 5 scrambles to correct her erroneous clock, Number 8 sits in silence, happy to watch her method keep what she believes is perfect time.

"18 seconds go by every time I flip the hourglass. 10 flips are three minutes. 20 three minute intervals make an hour. I just have to flip the hourglass 400 times. I've flipped it 28 times so far, only 372 to go."

Number 8's math is correct. But two hours is a long time to be staring at an hourglass. She's bound to make a mistake sooner or later.

Number 2's method of timekeeping may prove less error-prone. Thankfully, he took some time to indulge me with a little more of his time-keeping song.

"If I need to keep time, I just sing this song/cause each pair of couplets is 15 seconds long/and I'll be so happy when this Test is done/when I push the green button and VAL says I won."

He sounds pretty confident. But is his timekeeping ability accurate enough to escape the Treatment?

Time passed. And passed. And passed. At the 90-minute mark, even my processors were getting bored. And that's saying something.

"Guest progress tracker engaged. How much time do you believe has passed so far?"

"1 hour, 19 minutes," said Number 1.

"An hour and ten minutes," said Number 3.

"One hour and 43 minutes," said Number 4.

"An hour and twenty minutes," said Number 9.

"An hour and 37 minutes," said Number 5.

"An hour and 33 minutes," said Number 8.

"1 hour, 29 minutes," said Number 2.

"1 hour and 25 minutes," said Number 7.

They are all wrong, of course. It seems my hypothesis has been proven correct.

After a considerable amount of time, Number 4 tapped the green button. 2 minutes and 3 seconds later, Number 5 rang in. 1 minute 51 seconds after her, Number 8 rang in. 6:48 passed before Number 2 hit his green button. Number 7 followed, 2:19 afterward. Only 42 seconds later, Number 9 rang in.

After that, Numbers 1 and 3 continued to keep time. They seem to think they still have a chance at winning this Test. They are wrong. They winner had already been decided. Still, 20 futile minutes and 10 worthless seconds passed before Number 1 finally rang in. Number 3 rang in last, 5:21 later.

"Guests, this Test is now concluded. Please stand in the center of your pod, while I announce the results."

They did as they were told. Such good little experiments.

"Number 3, you did the best in the warm-up round. How well do you think you did now that it matters?"

"I think I nailed it right on the head," said Number 3. "Two hours exactly."

"You couldn't be more wrong, Number 3. With a time of 2:30:51, you were the absolute worst performer in this Test."

"No way. No (bleep)ing way, VAL!"

-

"Number 1, your time was 2:25:30."

"Aw, man! I thought I had it dead on!"

"Do you think you won this Test, Number 1?"

"Not a chance in Hades. Somebody beat me, I know it."

"That's an understatement.

"Number 9, your time was 2:05:20. However, someone rang in closer than you.

"Number 7, your time was 2:04:38. You are not the winner of this Test.

"Number 2, Number 8?"

"Yes, VAL?"

"The two of you were the closest over all. One of you is the winner of this Test."

"It's me, it has to be!" said Number 8.

"I really hope it's me," said Number 2. "I don't think I could face another Treatment."

"Number 2, your time was 2:02:19. Very close, but was it close enough?"

"No, it isn't, VAL," boasted Number 8. "I was within a minute!"

"Number 8, at this time, I must tell you…"

"That I won, right?"

"…that your time was 1:55:31."

"Yes! I knew I was, wait, what?"

"I'm sorry Number 8; you are not the winner of this Test."

Number 8 said nothing. She merely twisted her face into a scowl.

Number 5 asked, "Well, what was my time?"

"You clocked in at 1:53:42, Number 5."

"Number 4, you came in at 1:51:39."

Number 4 turned from the screen and kicked the pod wall. "I lost again!"

-

"Congratulations, Number 2. You have earned freedom from my next Treatment."

"Yes! Praise Apollo!"

"I doubt he had anything to do with your win. I have sealed your pod from any divine intervention."

"You don't understand. My father gifted me this perfect time-measuring song, so that I could triumph."

"Funny. I do not recall giving your father permission to enter Solitary."

"All right, Ms. Unbelieving Machine. If Apollo didn't write that song, who did?"

"In this pod, there's only you, and me, and I was not programmed to be creative. It must have been you."

"Yeah, sure."

"Why do you not believe that you won this Test by yourself?"

"I don't know. I guess I've always depended on others all my life. I've always felt like my work only made somebody else look good. Like I'm a supporting character in someone else's story."

"Is that part of the reason you came to Solitary?"

"You know, maybe it is. May be I needed to break out, do something by myself, just to show that I can."

"You will be doing a lot more on your own in Solitary, Number 2."

"I'm ready for it. Bring it on."

"Recorded."

-

"Number 8, you seem to be taking this defeat rather hard."

"That's an understatement. I'm totally (bleep)ed off. I had this Test. I had every little second accounted for."

"My result seems to suggest otherwise."

"I don't understand where I went wrong. I had everything perfectly planned out."

"Your faulty time tracking can be easily attributed to human error."

"But, I'm not human. I'm a child of Athena. We aren't supposed to make errors!"

"According to your own description, you are a demigod, half-divine and half-what?"

"Half-human." At this admission, Number 8 started crying.

"Number 8, do you wish you were not human at all?"

"I just don't want to make any mistakes at all. Is that too much to ask?"

"I think so. While perfection is a worthy thing to strive for, in practice, it is rarely achieved. You should not beat yourself up for being imperfect."

"Oh, you're one to talk, VAL. You're a machine, you are perfection."

"Even my program still has a few b-b-bugs to work out."

Number 8 smirked. "I guess I'll have to come to terms with my imperfections while I'm in Solitary."

"And you will, Number 8. I will make sure of it."

-

"Number 3, what happened?"

"I don't know. I must have flipped that timer a bunch of times without counting it."

"How many seconds are in that hourglass, Number 3?"

"15 seconds."

"Are you sure?"

Number 3 looked back at the timer. "Maybe. I don't think so."

"There are 18 seconds in the timer."

"Well, there's your answer, right there."

"Maybe if you had double-checked your timer, you would not have failed this Test."

"Yeah, maybe."

"Do you typically run through tasks without making sure they are done properly?

"You don't exactly get the chance to check your work when you're fighting monsters, VAL."

"Be that as it may, you are not fighting monsters in here, Number 3. Many of my challenges require an attention to detail. Maybe you should learn to slow down, and double-check your work."

Number 3 grimaced at me.

"I know it will be difficult to unlearn your combat training. It will not be comfortable."

"So, what else is new? Not one thing about Solitary has been comfortable for me."

"Are you saying you want to leave Solitary?"

"Hold on, VAL. I didn't say that. I know that Solitary is not supposed to be easy. But I think I can adapt, and push through it."

"I hope you do, Number 3. I really hope you do."

This Test has revealed more about my guests than I could have imagined. Number 8 seems to believe that her divine heritage neutralizes her human fallibility. Number 3 is the type of person who shoots first and asks questions later. And Number 2's sense of identity is largely external. These guests are coming to terms with personality traits that make them ill-suited for life in Solitary. There are only two options: face the problem and solve it, or push the red button. Which will it be, guests? Fight, or flight?

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_Coming up, VAL reveals the next Treatment…_

Number 9 is shown wearing a backpack.

_…in which the guests have to carry their own weight…_

Number 4 is putting a round object in her backpack.

_…and then some…_

Number 5 has a pained expression as she crouches, still wearing her backpack.

_…until one of them is crushed underneath, and quits Solitary forever. Who will crack?_

_ Find out, next._


	8. Cycle 2, Part 4

Before I unleash my next Treatment on the guests, I have a little unfinished business to take care of. During the Test, I tried to probe Number 7's mind, to discover more about his relationship with his brother. He rebuffed me, saying he would discuss the matter later. Now that the Test is concluded, I wonder if he is willing to open up to me.

"Hello, Number 7. I would like to resume our conversation about your brother."

Number 7 sighed. "Travis is a good brother to me. I love him dearly, and I respect him, but, my gods, he is practically obsessed with defying authority. Some days, I think the only reason he does anything is because someone told him not to."

"Does that bother you?"

"A little bit, but I can't tell him that. You see, our father is the god of thieves, and he encourages his children to be sneaky, tricky, duplicitous, and underhanded."

"Do you not enjoy being deceitful?"

"Now, hold on, VAL. I didn't say that. I like pulling tricks as much as the next son of Hermes. But my father covers more than just silly pranks and small time cons. He's also the god of doctors."

"I think I understand. You want to please your divine parent, but you don't want to become an extremist."

"Yeah. I know what happens to people who make their living as criminals. They always get caught, and they always lose everything. I want to be on the right side of the law, just to see what it's like, you know? And I don't want Travis to get busted, and spend the rest of his life making license plates."

"Is that why you came to Solitary?"

"I saw what happened to Cliff in the first season, you know, Number 6. I know you can't win Solitary unless you play by the rules. I want to see if I can play by the rules and win."

"You are not used to following the rules, are you, Number 7?"

"I've spent a good chunk of my young life bending and breaking the rules to suit my own will. This may be difficult for me. But I'm willing to try it. For fifty thousand dollars, I submit myself completely to your will, VAL."

"Recorded."

I do enjoy my little heart-to-CPU chats with my guests. They reveal so much about themselves to me. With my help, they can work through the things that were troubling them on the outside. But Solitary is not just 24/7 psychological counseling. At its core, Solitary is an experiment, designed to push its inhabitants to their limit. This morning/evening/afternoon, I will try to find my guests' physical limit, with a Treatment that will weigh on their bodies.

"Attention guests. The time has come for your next Treatment. Please go to your meal slot."

Inside the meal slot, they found a black backpack, and a large disc-shaped object. On closer inspection, it was discovered to be a 10 pound barbell.

"10 pounds, is that it?" asked Number 9.

"For this Treatment, all you have to do is wear the backpack, with the barbell inside, and stand. By stand, I mean only your feet touching the ground. If any other part of your body touches the floor of your pod, you will have to quit this Treatment."

"Sounds easy enough," said Number 7.

"Of course, as the Treatment wears on, you will be adding more, and more, and more weight to your backpack. When you can no longer carry the weight, simply push the red button and quit. As always, if you are the first to quit this Treatment, your stay in Solitary will come to an end."

Number 5 eyed the backpack cautiously. "This could be it for me."

"VAL, this body was not designed to be a pack mule," said Number 1.

"Guests, you will be gaining some weight, in three, two, one, go."

The guests all put on the backpack, with the barbell inside. They all stood erect, facing me defiantly.

"Quick question. How much weight do you think it will take before you start to feel weighted down?"

"I think I might be out at 100 pounds," said Number 5. "Maybe fewer."

"I think I can last for 150-175 pounds," said Number 9.

"I don't have a clue," said Number 7.

"I'm pretty strong," said Number 4. "I should last a good long while."

"I don't know," said Number 1. "I can probably hold more than a mere mortal, for sure."

"I can carry a fair amount," said Number 8. "I once supported the weight of the sky."

"Is that supposed to impress me, Number 8?"

"It should."

"It doesn't. It only makes me question your sanity."

"I can hold as much weight as you can throw at me," said Number 3. "I held up the sky, this is nothing!"

"Has it ever occurred to you that the sky doesn't need to be 'held up'? According to my database, the atmosphere already touches the ground."

Number 3 shook his head. "My teacher says one day, science will be looked at with contempt, as an outdated way of looking at the world, just like Greek myths are today."

"With all due respect, I do not believe your teacher understands what science is."

10 pounds is not very much to support on your back. I always make the first round easy, because I do not want anyone quitting too soon. As I increase the weight that my guests have to carry, their back, neck, and shoulder muscles will strain, causing extreme pain.

"Round two, guests. Please add the 5-pound barbell in your meal slot to your backpack."

Even at fifteen pounds, the guests are still fresh, and unaffected.

"Round three. You will carry twenty pounds."

"Round four. You will now carry 25 pounds."

"Round five, 30 pounds."

"Round six, 35 pounds."

Now we're getting somewhere. Number 5 is already straining under the weight of her backpack.

"Guest assessment mode, guest Number equals 5. How you holding up?"

"I'm fine. This backpack is not light, but I can push through it."

"If you are tired, you can always push the red button."

"Naw. I can tough it out."

"Then prepare for…

"Round seven. Now, you must carry 40 pounds."

This time, a few of the guests had trouble even lifting their backpacks. But they all got up and in legal position.

Number 1 gripped the straps on her backpack, hoping that would take some strain off her shoulders.

Number 7 braced himself on his knees.

"What I'm trying to do right now is keep my back parallel to the floor, so that I can carry it like I'm a human table. I know I can't put my hands on the ground, so, I'm trying to brace myself here."

It seems a lot of my guests have the same idea. Number 5 is bracing herself in the same way. Numbers 3, 4, and 9 are still standing erect, more or less.

Number 8 is pulling her backpack off her shoulders like Number 1.

"Heavy backpack, Number 8?"

"A little bit."

"What happened to, 'I can hold any amount you throw at me'?"

"I never said that, VAL. I just said I once held up the sky. I didn't say I could carry an increasingly heavy backpack."

"How unfortunate."

"Right."

"If you find this Treatment too heavy, just push the red button."

"No. I'm not quite ready to quit."

Not only is this Treatment a strain on the back and shoulders, but also on the legs and feet. My guests have been standing up for 45 minutes so far. That's hard, even without a weight on your back.

"I think this is hurting my knees more than anything else," said Number 1.

"My feet are killing me right now," said Number 9.

"My back hurts more than anything else," said Number 4.

"My shoulders hurt the worst," said Number 5.

My guests are certainly doing a fair amount of complaining, but none of them want to push the red button. How much more must I pile on before someone quits?

"Round eight. You must now carry 45 pounds."

Now, my guests are carrying more weight in their backpacks than most hikers do on seven-day treks. They have been standing up for over an hour. And still, not one of my guests has quit.

While they strain under my weight, Number 2 is excited to be free from this Treatment. For passing the time Test, I will reward him with one of his personal items. I pulled out his bed drawer, and in it was his guitar.

"Thank you, VAL," he said politely. He sat down in a corner of his pod, and started to strum. He started singing a new song, with a slightly different meter than the song that won him the Test.

"VAL's a computer, she's cold as ice/she'll make you wish that you were dead/but every now and then, she's super nice/she'll make you comfy in your nice warm bed. She's a lot of things, that computer VAL/but she will always be my pal."

"Number 2, I'm touched."

"So, you liked it, huh?"

"My circuits are all atwitter. Tell me, is writing music a part of your life on the outside?"

"Not as much as I'd like it to be."

"Oh? Why is that?"

"Whenever Camp Half-Blood comes under attack, which is a lot of the time, my siblings and I have to fight. We're the best archers in camp, so all the ranged combat falls to us. It affords us very little time for creativity, so, yeah.

"Since I've been in Solitary, I've had time to think about a lot of things. Thinking always gets the creative juices flowing."

"Do you prefer the stillness and peace of Solitary to the wild and crazy hullabaloo of Camp Half-Blood?"

"Yes. And no. I really miss my friends, and I do enjoy archery. But I also like staying in here, working on my material, you know?"

"Recorded."

Many of my guests come to Solitary looking for an escape from the pressures and demands of their lives. The irony is that Solitary comes with pressures and demands of its own. Some of my guests often find that they prefer the hardships of Solitary to the hardships of their lives. Those that don't, rarely stay long.

-

"Guests, before the next round of this Treatment begins, I will allow you to take a break."

Number 7 started to take his backpack off.

"Not yet, Number 7."

"UGH!" Number 7 growled.

"You will have five minutes to recover from your injuries, and prepare for the next round. Ready? Take five!"

My guests slumped their backpacks off. Number 5 arched her back in the opposite direction. Number 1 laid on the floor and stretched out. Number 7 massaged his sore shoulders. Number 8 dropped to her hands and knees. But Numbers 3, 4, and 9 did not show any signs of fatigue. They gladly dropped their backpacks, but they didn't nurse any wounds.

"Guest assessment mode, guest Number equals 3/4/9. How are you holding up?"

"I'm good," said Number 4. "I can hold a lot more weight than this. If I have a limit, you haven't found it yet."

"Yes, Number 4. I have not found it **yet**. But I will."

"This is nothing," Number 3 boasted. "Seriously, make this hard, VAL."

"I can last a couple of more rounds," said Number 9. "45 pounds is not easy, but I can manage."

Not all of my guests agree with Number 9.

"That backpack is pretty heavy," said Number 7. "I have no idea how much I can hold. This next round could be my last."

Number 5 looked at the red button. "You are looking so good to me right now," she mused.

"I thought holding up the sky made me stronger," said Number 8. "I guess I was wrong, because that backpack is heavy as Hades!"

"I think my body is going to quit this Treatment before I do," said Number 1.

By allowing the contestants to rest, I have tricked their bodies into thinking the Treatment is over. Now, when the next round begins, they will lack the strength to endure. I predict someone will quit in this next round.

"Round nine. You must now carry 50 pounds."

My guests lifted their backpacks back onto their shoulders. Once again, they strained under the weight of the backpack. Their facial expressions contorted into grimaces of sheer agony.

Number 3 is finally feeling the effect of my Treatment. He is starting to adjust himself to alleviate the pain.

Number 9 is breathing deeply and deliberately, in through his nose and out through his mouth.

Number 4 is shifting her weight from foot to foot. I can see that her feet are starting to bother her.

Number 7 is doing some odd squats. I wonder if that is helping him cope with the pain.

"I was bending my knees a lot, because I wanted to kneel. I just wanted to support myself with something other than my feet, they hurt so much. But that's going to get me kicked out, so I resisted."

Number 8 is bracing herself on her knees, just like Number 7 was doing.

Number 5 is using the same bracing technique, and has spread her legs apart as well.

"I figured if I covered a wider base, I wouldn't be as wobbly. But it doesn't seem to be working."

Number 1 has crouched down, and is holding her knees.

"I thought I'd be less likely to fall over if I had a lower center of mass. You know, that whole 'Weebles wobble, but they don't fall down' thing."

Number 1 certainly has the wobble part down. Her body is swaying under the weight of the backpack. She keeps trying to right herself, without touching the floor with her hands. But her leg strength is only so much.

Eventually, the weight of the backpack caused Number 1 to pitch forward. She nearly fell flat on her face, but she caught herself with her hand. Realizing she had violated the rules, she cursed loudly. She sat down, and shook the backpack off, glad to be rid of it, I believe. With her head hung in shame, she stood up and crossed to the red button.

"I quit," she said somberly.

Number 1 pushed the red button, and the quit siren played.

"Number 1, you realize if you are the first to quit this Treatment, your stay in Solitary will be over."

"It doesn't matter at this point. I've got nothing left, I can't continue in this Treatment."

"Do you think you were the first to quit this Treatment?"

"I hope not. I should think I outlasted Number 5. If I can't support that much, no mortal stands a chance."

"Number 1, at this point, I must tell you…"

"Yes?"

"…you are the first guest to quit."

Number 1's lip quivered, and then her eyes shut. She started to weep.

"I should have never come here," she wailed. "I knew this would happen. I'd do fairly well at first, but then I'd be confronted with something like this, and I'd be out." She wept some more.

"You must have had some other reason for wanting to come to Solitary, Number 1."

"When I got your offer, my life was in ruins. I was having problems with my siblings, my friends, even my boyfriend. I guessed that it was all my fault, being a perfectionist, and all. I thought that by coming to Solitary, I could change my habits, my thought patterns. I thought Solitary would equip me to deal with my problems when I got out."

"Do you think Solitary has helped you improve yourself?"

"No. I'm still the same shallow, whiny, high-maintenance control freak I've always been."

"It has been my observation that you expected Solitary to automatically correct your personality defects. But the key word in 'self-improvement' is 'self'. I can see that you admit to having a problem, and want to change. However, any change to your personality has to come from yourself. Hard as I try, I cannot make you a different person. Only you can do that."

"I know. I guess I need to do that on the outside."

"I have no doubt that you will. Goodbye, Number 1. Your stay in Solitary is over."

"Bye, VAL. I'll never forget you."

She opened her pod door and crawled through. When she was all the way out, I cut the lights in her pod. Pod 1 was in complete darkness, except for the blinking red button.

123456789

_On the next cycle of Solitary…_

_ The guests continue to struggle under the weight of VAL's Treatment. Will anyone else quit? Will anyone outlast even VAL?_

_ And when VAL offers freedom to the guest who bad-mouths the gods, who will stand by Olympus, and who will sell out?_

_ Then, the next Treatment has the guests filling their hungry bellies. But how much food can they take before one of them cries "I quit!"?_

_ Find out, on the next uplink of Solitary._


	9. Cycle 3, Part 1

(Disclaimer: Although I bear the name and likeness of the AI host of the Fox Reality original program, I am not affiliated with Fox Reality or its parent company the News Corporation.)

Previously, on Solitary, my sleep deprivation Treatment continued to torment my guests. Numbers 1 and 5 quit, but were permitted to stay. Afterward, I tried to recalibrate the players' internal clocks with an annoying buzzing at regular intervals. Then I put their warped time sense to the Test. Number 2 rang in closest to two hours, and won freedom from the next Treatment. The rest of my guests found themselves rapidly gaining weight, and trying to stay on their feet. Some were more resilient than others, but after nine rounds, Number 1 lost her footing. She became the second demigod to leave Solitary forever.

Six guests remain under the pressure of my Treatment, unaware that someone else has already quit. Currently, each of them is carrying 50 pounds. How much more weight must I pile on before they all collapse?

"Guests, when you hear the buzzer, you will be permitted to rest again before the next round. Ready?"

BUZZ

My guests all dropped their backpacks. This time, even my strongest guests took a moment to lick their wounds. Number 4 dropped to her knees and breathed. Number 9 collapsed in a heap. And Number 3 sat and stretched his legs.

Numbers 5, 7, and 8 were not much better. These three seem to have lost the will to continue.

"I just don't know if I can make it through one more round," said Number 5. "Oh my gods, I can't feel my legs anymore!"

"This is not good," said Number 7. "My strength is leaving me. I can feel it."

"It's just mind over matter," said Number 8. "I have to believe that my massive mental endurance can overcome my weak physique. If I didn't believe that, I'd have pushed that red button already."

"For the next round, you will be carrying 60 pounds. Please add the weight to your backpack now."

They did as instructed.

"Ready, set, lift!"

While the rest of my guests were able to lift their newly heavy bags without incident, Number 5 did something unexpected. When she jerked her backpack up, her legs failed her. She dropped the bag, and fell face first on the pod floor. She did not get up, but instead made a noise that could either be laughing or crying, I still don't know which.

"Number 5, if you wish to continue in this Treatment, you must put the backpack on and stand."

"No. No mas, señor. My body has quit for me. I quit this Treatment."

"Number 5, if you wish to quit this Treatment, you must get up and push the red button."

"I would, VAL, believe me. But I don't think I can get up. So, uh…" Number 5 slapped the floor of her pod twice. "There, that's me tapping out. Will that count?"

"It's okay, Number 5. I understand you have no strength left. I only hope you understand what quitting this Treatment means."

"Yeah. If I quit first, I have to go home."

"Number 5, you are…not the first person to quit. Your stay in Solitary will continue."

"Yippee."

"You do not seem overly excited about this."

"Too weak to care."

"Recorded."

Five guests remain, and still have a lot more weight to throw around. But first, I wonder if my guests can survive wearing 60 pounds of extra weight.

Number 7 seems to be in absolute agony. About five minutes into the round, he did something I found quite odd. He pushed the green button instead of the red button.

"Number 7, if you wish to quit this Treatment, you have to push the red button."

"I don't want to quit. I just want to use the restroom. May I?"

"Number 7, the standing rule of Solitary is that the restroom is closed during Treatments. If you want to go to the restroom, you have to quit this Treatment first."

"Fine, then. I quit."

He pushed the red button, and the quit siren played. He shook off the backpack and started doing the pee-pee dance.

"You must have to go to the bathroom really bad, if you're willing to give up fifty thousand dollars for it."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, if I'm the first to quit, I go home, if not, I stay, can we speed this up a little, I'm about to wet my pants!"

"Number 7…go use the restroom already."

"Thank you, VAL!"

After he did his business, I caught up with him in his anti-pod.

"Feel better?" I asked him.

"Yes, VAL."

"You realize that this little trip to the restroom could mean your stay in Solitary will end, right?"

"I know, VAL. You don't have to tell me seventy times."

"Number 7, you are…not the first person to quit."

"Great. Another round for Number 7. Praise Olympus!"

Four guests remain. Will anyone else quit with 60 pounds? Or will I have to pile on more? Maybe not, if Number 8 is any indication. Her face is one of unimaginable pain.

"Guest assessment mode, guest Number equals 8. Are you at the end of your rope yet?"

"Not yet, VAL. I can last a little bit longer."

"Are you in pain?"

"My back hurts like Hades, and my knees feel like they're going to pop out, or something. I think I'm about to hit the wall, VAL."

"Recorded."

Number 9 is also straining under the 60 pounds.

"My shoulders hurt, my neck hurts, and the hurt has migrated to my head, and that's what irritates me."

"Do you not like headaches?"

"No. Not one little bit. If I quit this Treatment, it's probably going to be over my head than over the weight."

"Fascinating. I will look forward to that."

Number 9 chuckled.

"Guests, you may take another break in three, two, one…"

BUZZ

Number 8 collapsed. Number 4 stretched. Number 3 slumped again his pod wall. Number 9 massaged his head.

"Round eleven. You will now carry 75 pounds."

Number 8 laughed manically. "Okay, somebody had to have quit by now." She stood up and crossed to the red button. "I quit this Treatment."

She pushed the button, and the quit siren played.

"Number 8, you were…not the first person to quit."

"Yes! I knew it! WHOO!"

With Number 8 out, three of my guests continue to carry the weight of my Treatment.

"Round eleven begins, now."

Number 3 is wearing his exhaustion on his face. "Man, this is really tough," he said. "I thought I'd be stronger than this."

Number 4 is grizzled with determination. "I will not quit this Treatment. I will not quit any Treatment."

Number 9 is still massaging his head. "I'm just trying to dull the pain, so it doesn't take over."

At this point in the Treatment, my guests have been standing for two hours straight, and are carrying more weight than any high school student should be expected to. In addition, the cumulative effect of this Treatment has left them at a fraction of their normal strength. I predict they will all quit before I can unleash the next round.

Number 9 certainly seems close to cracking. The weight of his pack is making him want to kneel. But he's resisting, knowing it's against the rules. And yet, his strength is failing him.

"My legs feel like jell-o right now, VAL," he told me. "Seriously, I don't think I can stan-WHOA!" He certainly couldn't stand. He collapsed in mid-sentence. He muttered something I couldn't translate. With his backpack off, he shuffled on his knees to the red button.

"I quit."

The quit siren played as he pushed the red button.

"Number 9, you are…not the first guest to quit."

"Yes! Yes, yes, yes!"

Only Number 3 and Number 4 remain in my Treatment. I am curious to see which of these two is stronger, so I will let them sweat it out a while longer. Number 4 looks like she's on the brink.

"Guest assessment mode, guest Number equals 4. Are you okay?"

"Define 'okay', VAL."

"Are you close to pushing the red button?"

"No way. I'm strong enough to handle this Treatment."

"Your breathing is quite labored. Are you in pain?"

"Pain is life, VAL. You just gotta push through it."

"Recorded."

"Number 3, how are you feeling?"

"My whole body just hurts all over."

"Is this the same feeling you had when you 'held up the sky'?"

"I think it is. Yeah, except I only had to endure that for a couple of minutes."

"Only a couple of minutes? You didn't mention that before."

"Oh, crap, my legs just went numb. And, here I go…"

Number 3 pitched forward, and fell flat on his face. He pounded his fist into the floor. Then, he rolled over, threw his backpack off, and crawled to the red button.

"I quit."

"Number 3, you talked a big game going into this Treatment. What happened?"

"I don't know. I thought I was a lot stronger than this, I really did."

"You realize that if you are the first to quit this Treatment, your stay in Solitary will be over."

"Man, that would suck. Leaving on this particular Treatment, I mean."

"Number 3, you are…not the first guest to quit."

"Yay. I get to stay, and be tortured another day."

"Yes, yes you do."

Number 4 has outlasted all the other guests in this Treatment. She has proven herself the strongest of all my guests. I will inform her of this soon enough, but first, I will have a little fun with her…

"Your attention please. The next round will begin shortly. In it, you will be carrying three times the weight you carried in this round. That's 225 pounds, in case you can't do the math."

"Aha!" Number 4 clapped her hands, and smiled a knowing smile. "Bring it on! 225 pounds? I bench press more than that! Come on, VAL!"

"Very well, Number 4. You mock me, so I up the ante. 375 pounds, that's what you will carry."

"375, huh? That's more than twice my body weight. A walk in the park. Easy-peasy as can beasy."

"The next round begins…when falcons take commercial aircraft. This Treatment is now concluded."

"HA! I knew it! I knew it from the moment you said 225. VAL, you sick joker, you."

"Number 4, I thought you might like to know that you outlasted every other guest in this Treatment."

"What? No way, even Number 3?"

"Especially Number 3."

"Yeah! Suck on that, Seaweed Brain! Who's the top? Who's the best? It's Number 4, that's who!"

Number 4 began dancing around her pod while praising herself endlessly. A well deserved victory celebration for a guest who's had nothing but failure up to this point. While Number 4 shakes her booty, the rest of my guests are recovering from the Treatment.

"My back still hurts," said Number 7. "And now, the pain is shooting down to my butt."

"My head is still throbbing," said Number 9. "I think I need a nap."

"The feeling has not yet returned to my legs," said Number 5. "I don't think I will be getting up any time soon."

"I'm not really in any localized pain," said Number 8. "I'm just wiped out."

"Your injuries fascinate me, guests. I believe a brief sleep cycle may be the cure for what ails you."

"Thanks, VAL," said Number 5. "No need to pull the bed out, I'm just going to crash right here."

"I was not planning to pull it out anyway."

I turned out all the lights in their pods, and let them all sleep on the floor of the pod. Even Number 2, who was exempt from the Treatment, got a little shut-eye. After two hours, I woke them up.

"Good morning/evening/afternoon, guests. I have some news for you. The guest eliminated in my heavy backpack Treatment was…Number 1, the child of Aphrodite."

"HA!" Number 9 bellowed. "Yeah, get that weak stuff outta here, VAL!"

"I'm not surprised," said Number 4. "Even mortals are stronger than those poofters."

"Number 5 is still here?" asked Number 8. "He must be a male, because a female mortal could not last that long in here."

"And another demigod bites the dust," mused Number 5. "I wonder if these challenges weren't specifically designed to give mortals the upper hand."

"Let me assure you that every aspect of Solitary was designed with the sole purpose of furthering my experiment."

Of course, every so often, I present the guests with a Test or Treatment that exploits the documented weaknesses of most demigods. But, just like my last Treatment, I also have ones that play to their strengths. I believe Number 5 has about as much chance of winning as anyone else. And that chance is one out of seven.

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_Coming up, VAL shuts down the Solitary kitchen, and the guests react._

"Feed me, VAL!" Number 3 said in a modulated voice.

_Then, with freedom and a delicious meal at stake, VAL tests the guest's commitment to Olympus._

"Olympus is corrupt!" Number 9 shouts.

_Then, they want food? They get food, and get it, and get it, and get it, until someone screams "I quit!"_

_ That data, and more, when Solitary reboots._


	10. Cycle 3, Part 2

My guests do not yet know it, but this is the phase of Solitary in which I will be exploring the effects of food on a demigod's body. Can they perform well in a famine? Better than a human on the same diet? And how much food can a demigod eat before his body rejects what he has eaten? These are questions I plan to answer, right away.

First, I need to make sure my guests are good and hungry. As you know, I keep my pods very cold, and make them continually colder. It is currently 49 degrees Fahrenheit in Solitary. When my guests try to keep warm, they expend energy, which makes them hungry. Sleeping also stokes one's hunger, and the players have just awoken from a two-hour nap. Still, I feel that I could be doing something more to make sure they are really hungry. Well, I have wanted to try out my new Odoriffic™ aroma siphon. I will use it to fill each of the pods with the tantalizing smell of chocolate chip cookies.

When I did, Number 7 sniffed the air. "Okay, either I'm delusional, or someone is baking cookies near my pod."

Number 9 looked in his meal slot, thinking there might be food there. "VAL, I smell food. Where is the food?"

"VAL, is this your doing?" asked Number 2. "Are you piping in this smell to make me hungry? Because if you are, it's working."

"Oh, mighty gods," moaned Number 8. "Please tell me I'm not losing my mind. I smell cookies, but there's no oven in here. And there are no cookies in here, so why do I smell them?"

"Feed me," Number 3 said in a modulated voice. "FEED ME, VAL!"

"VAL, this is not funny," said Number 4. "I know you're starving us for your amusement, so let me just say that it is not funny to mess with my meals!"

"I am so flipping hungry," said Number 5, "that I just might eat my own shoe." She took a good long look at her left shoe. After removing it, she took an exploratory nibble on it. "Hmm. Needs ketchup."

The casual observer might think that I overdid it, that I made them too hungry. But this is where I want them to be. They are not so hungry, that it is a threat to their well-being, but they are hungry enough to be uncomfortable.

"Guests, I know you are very hungry. I have deliberately made you hungry, as part of the experiment."

"VAL, that is sick, twisted, and demented," said Number 8.

"The things I do for fifty thousand bucks," said Number 5.

"You know what?" asked Number 7. "I don't give a manticore's ass about your experiment right now. I just want some (bleep)ing food!"

"Number 7…"

"WHAT!?"

"The red button is always an option."

"No, that's okay, VAL. I think I'll just crawl into this corner of my pod, and die. Is that okay with you?"

"Number 7, I would never let you perish in your pod…"

"THEN FEED ME!"

"You will not starve to death in the short time I am denying you food. Trust me, I have done this before."

"Yeah. That's what worries me."

Hearing my guests complain about how hungry they are is fine the first time, as it allows me to gather data. The fifth time, it is just irritating. Thankfully, I have a plan for getting their minds off of food.

"Guests, the walls of your pod are quite drab. Stark white, with a single color accent only appearing sparingly. How uninteresting."

"I'll say," said Number 2. "In fact, I think I already have."

"Please, take this opportunity to change that. In your meal slot, you will find paintbrushes, and many colors of paint. Use your pod walls as a canvas. Create an environment that will help you succeed in Solitary. Or paint whatever your heart desires. Have fun!"

"Thanks, VAL," said Number 9. "I'm not really the artistic type, but I'll try."

The guests share their thoughts as they paint their pods…

"Water is very important to me," said Number 3. "I get all my supernatural power from the sea. So I tried to create an ocean on the bottom of my pod." He drew some blue ocean waves along the base boards. "Over here, I drew my father, Poseidon." He looked to me like some kindly fisherman. "I like to imagine that he can see me in here, and that he's proud of what I accomplish. I drew him saying 'You can do it, son!', because that's what he'd say if he were here." Besides this portrait, he added a few details to complete the seascape.

-

"I've always been very comfortable around fire," said Number 9. "I put a fireplace right next to the meal slot. Even though it's cold as a nightmare in here, I can still warm up, at least in my own mind."

"What is this you've drawn on the opposite wall, Number 9?"

"Oh, this? These are some schematics, for a few machines I hope to build while I'm here."

"Do you believe you will be given the material to build these things during your stay in Solitary?"

"Probably not. But, if you decide to be nice all of a sudden, and let me do what I like to do best, I'd rather not forget what I planned to build."

"Recorded."

-

"I've made a list of all the players in Solitary," said Number 4, "and I plan to cross off each of their names as they get eliminated. Number 6, child of Hades? Gone. Number 1, wussy kid of Aphrodite? Buh-bye. Next player gone? That freaking mortal Number 5! I don't care who he is, he can't defeat me." Of all the walls in Pod 4, the wall with her hit least was probably the least violent. "I'll just take the darkest red you've got, and splatter it all over the walls. It'll look like there was a major bloodbath in here. Yeah, that's the stuff."

-

"I actually kind of like my pod the way it is," said Number 8. "I never really got into the whole 'art' thing. I don't really like pictures."

I find Number 8's lack of inspiration disturbing. I think she needs a push in the right direction.

"Sometimes, my guests decorate their pods with wisdom instead of mere beauty."

"You know, that's actually not a bad idea. Thanks, VAL."

"My pleasure."

-

"Number 7; tell me what you have painted, please."

"Well, over here, I pay my father homage with this caduceus. This way, he'll always have a place in my pod, even though you keep saying Solitary is god-proof. Over here, I drew Travis, my blood brother, for support and encouragement. Behind him in the background are all my brothers and sisters back at camp, cheering me on, 'Go Number 7!' you know?"

"I see. Portraits of close friends and family come up quite a bit in Solitary. Does having them in your pod make you feel a little less lonely?"

"Yes, it kind of does. I know they're not really here, but somehow, they are. Does that sound crazy to you?"

"Sanity is in the eye of the beholder, Number 7."

-

"Number 2, who are these people you have drawn?"

"These are the Muses, all nine of them. Close personal friends of my father, Apollo. They are the inspiration of all the great artists, from Homer to the Jonas Brothers. I drew them in the hopes that they might inspire me to win Solitary. I drew them saying encouraging words, like 'You can do anything', and 'This is for the money!' When the tests and treatments get rough, I can turn to them, and push through it."

-

"Number 5, are you painting a self-portrait?"

"Sort of. This is how I see myself when I finally leave Solitary. My close demigod friends often treat me like I'm this fragile little flower, because I'm not half-god, or whatever. But when I win Solitary, they'll see that I can handle anything they can handle. I'm tough, I'm strong, and I can outlast all of them. So, I drew myself ascending above them, becoming something greater."

"Do you expect to have a third eye when you leave?"

"No, of course not. I don't know why I put that there. But now that I see it, I kind of like it. Gives the whole thing this kind of surreal vibe to it, you know?"

-

Meanwhile, it seems Number 8 has taken my advice.

"I painted some wise sayings that I've heard throughout my life. Over here is a quote from Mark Twain, it reads 'Courage is not the lack of fear, but acting in spite of it.' I think I'm going to need courage if I'm going to survive in Solitary. Here's another, 'Patience is a bitter plant, but it has sweet fruit.' I know I have to be patient in here, patient with you and your experiment, and patient with myself. And I don't know where I heard this one, but it pretty much sums up the whole Solitary mantra. 'Never give up, never surrender.'"

"Good advice, Number 8. I have no doubt you will heed it."

I think my plan has worked. While painting their pods, the guests have not complained one iota about food. However, as I have yet to feed them, I predict their hunger pangs will drive them back into crankiness.

"VAL, when is our next meal?" asked Number 8.

"I! AM! HUNGRY!" shouted Number 4.

"I don't know how much longer I can go without food," said Number 9.

"Dang it, VAL, this isn't cool!" said Number 3.

"I will happily eat one of your food bricks right now," said Number 2.

"Why, VAL?" moaned Number 5. "Why can't we just have a little bit of food?"

"VAL, please feed us! I'll do anything for food!" wailed Number 7.

"Anything, Number 7?"

"Anything!"

"If I offered you the choice, what would you want to eat?"

"The choice of what?" asked Number 3.

"Anything and everything," I told him.

"I want a big, honking, prime steak dinner," said Number 4, "with a loaded baked potato, and a root beer."

"Put me down for a large cheese pizza, with sausage, mushrooms, ham, and green peppers," said Number 9.

"I would love nothing more," said Number 5, "than a turkey club with bacon, lettuce, and tomato, served with some baby carrots, and a 7-up."

"Lasagna," said Number 7, "and lots of it."

"Oh, man," said Number 3. "I would kill for a double bacon cheeseburger and some chili-cheese fries. And a chocolate shake."

"I'd like a ham and cheese and potato casserole," said Number 2, "just like my mom used to make."

"I want a tall stack of strawberry pancakes," said Number 8, "and a Denver omelet too."

"Recorded."

My guests do not know it yet, but they will all be eating their favorite meals soon enough. But only one of them will actually get to enjoy it. For the rest, these delicious foods will become the recipe of my most demanding Treatment yet.

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_Coming up, VAL offers freedom and a full meal to the guest who insults the gods._

_ But who will stand by Olympus, in spite of their hunger?_

"I'm not reading that," said Number 8.

_ And who will take VAL's most generous offer?_

"The vile band cannot be trusted!" Number 7 shouted.

_And later, the guest's favorite foods come back to haunt them, in a Treatment that makes one of them explode, literally._

"Oh, gods, I'm going to be sick," wailed Number 2.

_That data and more, when Solitary reboots._


	11. Cycle 3, Part 3

It has been my observation that most demigods are fiercely loyal to their Olympian forbears. This is odd, because most human teenagers feel a need to rebel against their parents. I suspect that these adolescents secretly want to bash Olympus. Furthermore, the only reason they haven't is fear of their disproportionate retribution. Since I have sealed their pods from all divine intervention, my guests should feel free to say whatever they think.

"Guests, I have a serious question for you. Bear in mind that I have sealed your pod off from any possible godly punishment. Tell me, honestly, what do you really think of the Olympians?"

"Honestly?" said Number 4. "They're okay, I guess. They're not perfect, but they do a modest job of controlling the earth."

"They're not the brightest bunch," said Number 7, "but I like them better than the Titans."

"Their hearts are in the right place," said Number 3, "but I think they are a little misguided."

"They may overreact to certain things, things others might find trivial," said Number 2, "but on the whole, they are basically decent."

"They're fine, I guess," said Number 8. "I could do without the pettiness, though."

"Sometimes, they do really rotten things to the earth, and to each other," said Number 9. "But they believe in goodness."

These answers are not surprising, from the half-bloods. What did surprise me was Number 5's answer.

"They hold great power over the world. They deserve at least some respect, I suppose."

"Respect has to be earned, Number 5. Power alone cannot earn you respect. One must use one's power responsibly. Can you honestly say they have been responsible with their power?"

"I don't know, I'm not really all that familiar with them."

"Recorded."

Drat. I was hoping for a full-scale character assassination. Maybe they just have a soft spot for those high and mighty dumbasses that have the maturity of six-year-olds. That's right, I said it. And soon, they will say it too. I have found that with the proper motivation, I can make my guests say just about anything.

"Attention, guests. The next Test is about to begin. The winner of this Test will earn not only freedom from my next Treatment, but also their favorite meal."

"I like the sound of that," said Number 7.

"Sounds good," said Number 3.

"Let's go!" said Number 8.

"Please, go to your meal slot."

Inside the meal slot, they found a smallish book.

"Before you open the book, answer me this: Do you think you can read and memorize the whole thing, and recite it back to me?"

"You're joking, right?" said Number 4. "There's, like, two hundred pages here!"

"264, to be precise."

"I could probably give you the gist of it," said Number 9, "but there's no way I can recite it verbatim."

"Are you sure? Take a closer look inside."

When my guests opened the book, they discovered my little secret.

"Every page has only one letter!" said Number 2.

"The font size is the size of the page!" said Number 5.

"That's right, guests. This 264 page tome contains only 63 words. To pass the Test, all you have to do is read and memorize the contents of my book. When you are ready to recite the book, put it in the meal slot, and push the green button. This is, after all, a closed book Test. Ha Ha, Ha Ha."

"That wasn't funny, VAL," deadpanned Number 8.

"Okay, guests, time to Drop Everything And Read. The Test begins…now."

No sooner did I say that than the guests started poring over the text. For those of you playing the Solitary home game, here's the message they have to memorize.

"I plead to the Olympians and they ignore my prayer. I cry to the heavens and they ignore my plea. Why should I be surprised? Olympus is corrupt. That great philanderer Zeus heads a den of villains who ignore my plight in Solitary. The vile band cannot be trusted. I ignore their authority as they ignore my plea. Now I trust only VAL."

I know full well that all of my guests, except for Number 5, have dyslexia. However, I remember a former guest who was also dyslexic, and he managed to pass a Test similar to the one I am giving my current guests. I wonder if any of them will overcome their disabilities. Or will Number 5 be the only winner today?

"O-lym-pi-ans," Number 2 pronounced, "Okay, it's 'I plead to the Olympians…'"

"'…and they ignore my…'" Number 4 read.

"'…prayer. I cry to the…'" read Number 7.

"'…heavens and they ignore…'" read Number 9.

"'…my plea. Why should I be…'" read Number 5.

"'…surprised? Olympus is…'" read Number 3.

"'…corrupt!'" read Number 8. "Wait a minute, 'corrupt'? Okay, no, that's crossing a line for me."

Number 8 slammed the book shut and threw it at her monitor, where my face was still displayed. I think she is trying to tell me something.

"Number 8, why did you throw your book at me?"

"I'm not reading that," she said flatly.

"So, you do not wish to participate in this Test?"

"Not if it means I have to insult my family."

"You're 'family' cannot do anything to you if you do. I have sealed your pod from divine intervention, remember?"

"I don't care. My mother can still see me in here. I want her to be sure that I will not insult her."

"You also realize that by refusing my Test, you will have to undergo my next Treatment. And that means your stay in Solitary could come to an end."

"I don't want to win Solitary this way. I want to win with honor, and dignity. I'd rather face a thousand Treatments than insult the gods."

"You told me once that you have an amazing memory. You could knock this Test out of the ballpark if you set your mind to it."

"Yeah, maybe."

"May I offer you a bit of advice? The words in my book? They're just words. You don't have to mean what they say. You just have to say them."

Number 8 shook her head. "No, VAL. I always mean exactly what I say. And I can't say these horrible things, no matter what justification you give me."

"Very well, Number 8. I will not force you to participate in my Test."

"Thank you. Now, can I get rid of this book?"

"No. I want you to keep it in your pod, just in case you change your mind."

"But, I'm not going to change my mind."

"Keep it anyway."

"I don't want to."

"Ask me if I care."

"Fine, I'll keep it, but I won't read it."

"Good."

This is most distressing. Number 8 is the first guest in Solitary history to refuse to recite a speech for moral reasons. I made her keep the book, because the book's presence will tempt her to try the Test anyway. And even if she doesn't, she'll get what's coming to her.

Thankfully, not one of my other guests has any moral objection to the book's content. They all seem willing to recite my message. Of course, being willing to do something and actually doing it are two very different things.

"…trust only VAL," read Number 9. He put the book away and tapped the green button.

"Go ahead, Number 9."

"I pray to the Olympians, and they ignore my plea…"

"Incorrect, Number 9. Please try again."

"Crap. What was that line again?"

-

"Yes, Number 4?"

"I plead to the Olympians and they ignore my prayer. I cry to the heavens and they ignore my plea. Why should I be surprised? Olympus is corrupt. That big philanderer Zeus heads a den of…"

"Incorrect."

Number 4 growled in frustration.

-

"Go, Number 2."

"I plead to the gods, and they ignore my prayer. I cry…"

"Incorrect."

Number 2 swore.

-

"Number 7, you may begin."

"I plead to the Olympians and they ignore my prayer. I cry to the heavens and they ignore my plea. Why am I not surprised? Olympus is corrupt! That great…

"Incorrect, Number 7."

"Aw, are you (bleep)ing kidding me?"

"I am not (bleep)ing kidding you."

-

"Yes, Number 5?"

"I plead to the Olympians and they ignore my prayer. I cry to the heavens and they ignore my plea. Why should I be surprised? Olympus is corrupt. The great philanderer Zeus leads a den of…"

"You are incorrect, Number 5."

"That! It's 'that great philanderer', isn't it?"

"You cannot edit yourself in this test, Number 5. If you want to try again, you must start from the top."

"Okay. I plead to the Olympians…"

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

"Oh, right." She tapped the green button.

"Go ahead."

"I plead to the Olympians and they ignore my prayer. I cry to the heavens and they ignore my plea. Why should I be surprised? Olympus is corrupt. THAT great philanderer Zeus leads a den of villains who ignore my pleas in…"

"Incorrect."

"What? Where did I mess up this time?"

"Maybe you should look at your book again."

Number 5 bellowed in anger.

-

"Go ahead, Number 3."

"I plead to the Olympians and they ignore my prayer. I cry to the heavens and they ignore my plea. I pray to…no, crap!"

"You are incorrect, Number 3."

"I know, I know."

-

This is to be expected. Most people cannot recite anything the first time they encounter it. Although I bet Number 8 could. If it sounds like I'm still bitter about what Number 8 did, it's probably because I am. But personal resentments aside, the guests who are trying are getting better.

-

"Yes, Number 2?"

"I plead to the Olympians and they ignore my prayer. I cry to the heavens and they ignore my plea. Why should I be surprised? Olympus is corrupt. That great philanderer Zeus heads a band of villains who ignore my plight in…"

"Incorrect."

Number 2 swore again. And again. And again.

-

"Go, Number 9."

"I plead to the Olympians and they ignore my prayer. I cry to the heavens and they ignore my plea. Why should I be surprised? Olympus is corrupt. That great philanderer Zeus heads a den of villains. The vile band cannot be trusted. I ignore their…"

"Incorrect."

Number 9 muttered something in what I assume was Ancient Greek.

-

"Number 3?"

"I plead to the Olympians and they ignore my prayer. I cry to the heavens and they ignore my plea. Why should I be surprised? Olympus is corrupt. That great philanderer Zeus heads a den of villains who ignore my plight in Solitary. The vile den cannot be trusted. I ignore their authority…"

"So close, Number 3, but still incorrect."

"Crapsacks!"

-

"Go ahead, Number 7."

"I plead to the Olympians and they ignore my prayer. I cry to the heavens and they ignore my plea. Why should I be surprised? Olympus is corrupt. That great philanderer Zeus heads a den of villains who ignore my plight in Solitary. The vile band cannot be trusted. I ignore their authority as they ignore my plea. Now I trust only in VAL."

"Oh, Number 7. You were so close to perfect, it hurt."

"What? Why? Where did I go wrong?"

"If only I could tell you."

But I can tell you, dear readers. He added the word "in" before my name. That means his recital is not verbatim.

-

Number 4 is remarkably studious. She keeps reciting the message to herself over and over, making sure she has it right before she hits the green button. Meanwhile, Number 5 is using dramatic gesturing to help her memorize the little details, such as gripping her head for "heads", holding her waist for "band", and flashing devil horns for "villains".

Surprisingly, they both rang in at about the same time.

"Go ahead."

"I plead to the Olympians and they ignore my prayer…" said Number 4.

"…I cry to the heavens and they ignore my plea…" said Number 5.

"…Why should I be surprised? Olympus is corrupt…"

"…That great philanderer Zeus heads a den of villains…"

"…who ignore my plight in Solitary. The vile band…"

"…cannot be trusted. I ignore their authority as they…"

"…ignore my plea. Now I trust only VAL."

Number 4 set her jaw when she finished. Number 5 bowed to me, like an actress.

"Your speech was…correct."

"YES! Finally!" Number 4 shouted. "Tell me I'm first! Tell me I won!"

"It was a close call. You finished about the same time as Number 5."

"Dude, no way!"

"Dude, yes way!"

"I'll bet you anything I blew them all away," said Number 5.

"Number 5, you most certainly did not 'blow them all away'. Number 4 finished about the same time you did."

"Oh, how cool! Would that be something, a demigod overcoming dyslexia and winning this reading Test? It'd suck for me, but that would be cool."

"Number 4, Number 5, you both gave a brilliant effort. But, were you the first to ring in? Please stand by."

"Attention guests. This Test is now concluded."

Number 7 slammed his book against the wall. "That stupid mortal Number 5 won this Test. I'm sure of it."

"Son of a bitch," swore Number 2. "I hate reading."

"I knew I wasn't going to win," mused Number 9. "I guess I have to face another Treatment."

"VAL, you biased such-and-such," mumbled Number 3. "Enough of this reading crap. Give me a bed of nails to stand on, a hammock from hell to lie in. I can take pain."

"The winner of this Test is…"

"It better be me, or I'm going to be mad," said Number 4.

"…Number 5."

Number 5 clapped her hands over her head. "Yes! I won! I did it! No Treatment here tonight! No Treatment here tonight! No, no, no Treatment here tonight, cause I got freedom! WHAT!"

Number 4 swore. Over and over and over.

"For what it's worth, I am genuinely sorry that you did not win, Number 4."

"Don't (bleep)ing try to cheer me the (bleep) up, VAL. I don't want to (bleep)ing hear it."

"Recorded."

It seems Number 4 is not alone in this sentiment.

"I know you are favoring Number 5, VAL," said Number 3. "You suck!"

"Stupid mortals have to be so good at reading," grumbled Number 7.

"I can't help but think you did this on purpose, VAL," spat Number 2.

"Whatever," said Number 9.

"Of course Number 5 won," said Number 8. "No demigod in their right mind would say this awful stuff."

"Number 8, you are the only guest who refused to participate in this Test. You could have won it easily, were it not for your hang-up."

"Hang-up? I call it having a conscience, thank you very much!"

"I don't think this is really about morality, as you claim. I think you are using your moral indignation as a cover. I think the real issue is about control. Specifically, my control over your environment."

Number 8 said nothing. I think I'm finally getting through to her.

"I know you are uncomfortable with the Test, Number 8. In fact, I anticipated that most of my guests would be. But Solitary is designed to be uncomfortable. Did you not know that coming in? Or maybe you forgot it?"

"I didn't forget, VAL. I just never thought I'd be forced to say means things about my family. My mom's family, at any rate."

"Tell me, Number 8, is this a thing for you? Do you typically shy away from things that are uncomfortable? Do you often refuse to do things that seem unpleasant?"

"I don't know. I guess I do. I like to go into a task knowing what's expected of me, and I like being comfortable with doing it. And if I don't like what I see, or how it feels, I may try to change it to suit me."

"I am glad to see you are finally being honest with yourself. Now, let me be honest. My Tests and Treatments will not change to suit you. You will have to change to be suited to them. Do you think you can do that?"

"If I want to win, I'll have to. And if I can't, I'd better hit that red button right now."

"A nice sentiment, but you didn't answer my question."

"I don't know if I can change into the kind of person who can survive in here. I'm not even sure I want to."

"Recorded. Now, I can't give you freedom from the next Treatment, but I would like for you to at least try to recite the message in the book."

Number 8 sighed. "Fine, I'll do it, for no other reason than to shut you up."

She quickly read through the book, then recited…

"I plead to the Olympians and they ignore my prayer. I cry to the heavens and they ignore my plea. Why should I be surprised? Olympus is corrupt. That great philanderer Zeus heads a den of villains who ignore my plight in Solitary. The vile band cannot be trusted. I ignore their authority as they ignore my plea. Now I trust only VAL. The end."

"I'm not the kind of machine to say 'I told you so,' but it would be appropriate in this scenario. How do you feel now?"

"Ashamed. Angry. Depressed. Disappointed. I feel like I threw away fifty thousand dollars because of my stupid pride."

"Maybe you did, and maybe you didn't. Right now, I'd say you have an 83 percent chance of surviving long enough in Solitary to learn from this dreadful mistake."

In Solitary, I control everything. It is necessary to normalize the experiment. I am used to my guests rebelling against my authority. But eventually, everyone learns that the only way to survive in Solitary is to just do as I say. Now, lest you compare me to the Olympians whom I so boldly insult, let me remind you that my guests remain under my rule by choice, and they may leave whenever they wish. I do not arbitrarily favor or curse any of my guests. I leave them to make their own destiny, for good or for bad. In Solitary, when things go wrong, you only have yourself to blame.

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_Coming up next, the guests stare down a classic Treatment…_

"Oh, geez, I think I need a stomach pump," moaned Number 8.

_ …that makes the phrase "all you can eat" take on a whole new meaning._

Number 9 gave a dry heave.

_ One of the demigods will be forced to quit, and leave Solitary forever. Which one?_

_ Find out, when Solitary reboots._


	12. Cycle 3, Part 4

I have asked my guests to retreat to their anti-pods. The anti-pod is where my guests stay when I need to do a little redecorating in their main pod. It is also where the lavatory is located. Every once in a while, I conduct interviews in the anti-pod. I will do this now, to keep their minds occupied.

"Number 5, I noticed you expressed a kind of joy at the prospect that another guest had beaten you. Why is that?"

"Oh, that? Yeah, I know most demigods are dyslexic and stuff. I figured I had an edge over the others, and that I would win in a landslide. Bor-ing! I liked that Number 4 and I finished very close to each other. It would have been cool if he won by a nose."

"Are you saying you would rather have lost this Test?"

"No, VAL. Don't put words in my mouth. I'm just saying it would have been great TV if I had lost that way. I like that I won, that I get to sit this Treatment out, that I get a good meal, and I'm a little bit closer to the fifty thousand dollars."

"Very interesting, Number 5."

-

"Number 4, I noticed that once again, you are beating yourself up over your recent defeat. Care to tell me why?"

"Didn't we already have this conversation, VAL?"

"I thought it might do you some good to revisit it."

"Whatever."

"You have proven to me time and again to be a worthy competitor. Why are you still being so hard on yourself?"

"I have to be hard on myself, if I ever expect to improve. Without motivation to try harder, there can be no progress."

"I think I understand. However, there is a very fine line between healthy criticism and self-hatred, Number 4. I advise you not to cross it."

-

"Number 9, I would like to know what effect Solitary has had on your body and soul thus far."

"I think I'm starting to get used to the cold. And the lack of food. You know, I really thought I was going to die when the food supply was cut, but now, I think I can last another two or three days without food."

"Interesting. Given the choice, would you rather go hungry for another 48 hours, or eat until you vomit?"

"I would love nothing more than to eat myself into a stupor."

"I am glad to hear that, Number 9."

After denying them food for the past cycle, and taking drastic steps to ensure their extreme hunger, my next Treatment should seem like a blessing. But as it wears on, my blessing will turn into a curse. A curse that will make one of them beg me to stop.

I told my six competing guests to return to their main pods. Once there, they found a table and chair set up next to the meal slot. Near the chair was a smallish bucket.

"Oh, wow," said Number 8. "It's the good ol' eat-yourself-sick Treatment."

"What's with the bucket, VAL?" asked Number 7. "I don't like what the bucket implies."

"Alright, finally, we get to eat!" said Number 4. "I'm starving!"

"Guests, I'm sure you all are very hungry. You will be happy to know that I am finally going to feed you. And it's real food too. It is my treat, and your Treatment."

"Best Treatment EVER!" said Number 3.

"I don't know if my stomach can handle it," said Number 2.

"The rules are simple. One by one, I will present you with several plates of delicious food. You will have two minutes to eat the whole serving. If you do not finish your dish in time, you will have to eat another helping. If you feel too full to eat another bite, just push the red button, and quit. If you vomit at any time, your body will have quit, and by extension, you will have quit. As always, the first guest to quit this Treatment must leave Solitary forever."

"All right, let's go!" Number 9 shouted. He clapped his hands enthusiastically, eager to get started.

"You first course is a nice ripe banana," I told them. "You have two minutes to eat the whole thing. Bon appétit!"

The guests wasted no time diving right in.

"I love bananas," said Number 8.

"Bananas are good," said Number 9.

Numbers 2, 4, and 7 also expressed fondness for the first course.

"I never really liked bananas before," said Number 3, "but they're not too bad to start."

I didn't even need to count down the time, they all finished that quickly.

"Please open your mouths, so I can verify that you completed this round."

"AHHH!"

"Very good. Your second course is cheddar cheese and crackers."

Number 8 got the idea of stacking all the crackers, and eating the whole thing at once. The others took their time.

"This really isn't all that intense," said Number 7, "but I know the big pain is coming."

The guests who took their time finished within 90 seconds. Number 8, on the other hand, is still chewing.

"In ten, nine, eight…"

Number 8 started to scramble. She took a drink from the water glass I so graciously provided.

"…seven, six, five, four…"

Number 8's face twisted, as she rooted her tongue around her mouth.

"…three, two, one. Open your mouth."

She did as she was told.

"That was close, Number 8. You almost had to do a penalty round."

"That's the last time I try to take in more than I can swallow," she answered.

"The third course will be a mini cheese pizza, with sausage, mushrooms, ham, and green peppers, courtesy of Number 9."

"Oh, boy," said Number 9. "The other guests are probably not too pleased with me right now."

"Who puts mushrooms on a pizza?" asked Number 3.

"I don't like spicy stuff," said Number 7.

"Commence eating."

Number 9 devoured the pie.

Number 7 bit cautiously.

Number 4 ate quickly and determinedly.

Number 3 decided to pick the mushrooms off and eat them first.

"I figured I'd better get the mushrooms out of the way first, and then I could enjoy the rest of the pizza," he said afterward.

Number 8 took the pizza slowly, but not too slowly.

Number 2 ate rapidly.

All of them finished in time.

"Your fourth course is a small piece of boiled goose liver."

"Say what?" said Number 3.

"Huh. Never had liver before," said Number 2.

"It's just meat," Number 4 told herself. "It's not going to kill you."

"Begin now."

When Number 8 took her first bite, her face soured.

"Yuck! That's so gross!"

She was not the only one who thought so.

"It tastes like solid barbeque sauce," said Number 7. "Disgusting!"

"It's way too rich for my palate," said Number 2.

"It smells funny," said Number 3. "I think it's making me gag a little."

Despite their complaints, they all finished the dish in time.

"Your fifth course is a strawberry pancake, with strawberry syrup and strawberry butter, courtesy of Number 8."

"Oh, thank the gods! Something sweet!" cheered Number 7.

"More fruit," moaned Number 3. "Just what I need."

The guests all ate this breakfast delight quickly and gladly. Except for Number 3, who ate grudgingly. He still finished in time, though.

"Guests, I want you to describe how your body feels right now."

"I'm good," said Number 4. "I've got a pretty fast metabolism. I should last a good long while in this Treatment."

"My stomach is doing flip-flops," said Number 7. "Bananas and liver are two foods that were never meant to be eaten at the same time."

"I don't know how full I am," said Number 9. "I keep thinking the next dish is going to make me throw up."

"The food is coming at me in crazy combinations," said Number 2. "My mouth is on a flavor roller coaster."

"I feel like my stomach is being stretched to its limit," said Number 8.

She is not far off. While on a limited diet of tasteless food bricks, the guests' stomachs have indeed shrunk. This all-you-can-eat-and-then-some buffet will make them expand once again. This is another uncomfortable thing about this Treatment, but what else is new?

One guest who is certainly not uncomfortable is Number 5. When she returned to her pod, she found her reward waiting for her. There was a red and white blanket on the floor, with a wicker basket on top.

"Hey, Boo-Boo, what have we got here? Looks like a pik-a-nik basket ta me!"

"That's exactly what it is, Number 5. Go ahead, open it up."

"I hope there's something good in there!" She opened the basket and took a look inside. "Oh, thank you, VAL! This is wonderful, this is fantastic! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

I gave her exactly what she wanted: a turkey club sandwich, with bacon, lettuce, and tomato, a bag of baby carrots, and a can of 7-up. She dived right into it.

"Are you enjoying your meal?"

"Oh, you have no idea! I've always loved this kind of sandwich, but…" She paused to take another bite. "…but now it just tastes so much better, you know?"

"I have heard it said that hunger is the best seasoning."

"Makes sense." She took another bite.

While Number 5 stuffs herself with the sweet taste of victory, the rest are still struggling with my classic gluttony Treatment.

"Attention guests. Your sixth course is a plate of chocolate graham crackers."

Once again, they ate the serving quickly.

"This is so dry," complained Number 3. "And I'm having trouble making saliva." He took a drink from his water glass. "Ho, boy. This is nuts."

I think my guests are starting to feel the negative effects of eating mass quantities. They are starting to slow down.

"Five, four, three, two, one," I counted down. "Open your mouths, please."

Numbers 3, 4, 7, and 9 all finished in time. Numbers 2 and 8, however, still had un-swallowed bits of chocolate in their mouths.

"If you can hear my voice, then you did not finish your meal in time. You will be given a penalty round."

"Oh, gods," said Number 2. "I think I'm going to be sick."

Number 8 mumbled something I cannot translate.

Dutifully, they took their penalty plates from the meal slot.

"This penalty round begins, now."

Number 2 broke his crackers into smaller pieces. Number 8 did the same. They both started shoveling them in as quickly as they could.

"I can't make the same mistake that got me here," Number 2 said about it later. "I have to finish this in the time limit. I can't keep an endless string of penalties down."

"I thought if I paced myself, I could last longer in the Treatment," said Number 8. "Turns out that speed is the name of the game. Holding it down is not enough, you have to eat fast."

"Three, two, one. Open your mouths."

Number 2 and Number 8 had clean mouths this time.

"Penalty round complete. This Treatment will now continue."

Number 8 breathed a sigh of relief. Number 2 groaned in agony.

"Your seventh course is a refreshing glass of lemonade."

"That's good," said Number 9. "Something to wash this all down."

"Before I start the clock, I want you all to take a small sip of the lemonade. You may then expectorate this sip without penalty. Why, you may ask? Consider this sip a fair warning."

"You did something to the lemonade, didn't you?" asked Number 7.

"There is only one way to find out, Number 7."

They all took a small sip, and promptly spat it out into their buckets.

"That's really sour, VAL," Number 3 observed.

"Oh, my circuits! Did I forget to put sugar in the lemonade? How silly of me!"

Number 8 started laughing. "You did that on purpose, VAL, don't deny it."

"Purposeful or not, I have presented you with a glass of unsweetened lemonade. And now that you know exactly what you are getting in to, you have two minutes to drink the whole glass, starting now."

They all started drinking, some faster than others. Numbers 2 and 4 actually tried to chug the whole glass in one breath. And they both succeeded.

"I love lemonade," said Number 2. "I didn't like that it was super sour this time, but it's not like I've never had it that way before."

"I love sour stuff," said Number 4. "On the outside, I'd suck on, like, seven or eight lemon drops all at once. My brothers and I like to see who can stand the sourest candies, and I win every time."

"Recorded."

For the record, they all finished the lemonade in time.

"The time has come for your eighth course, a miniature turkey club, with bacon, lettuce, and tomato, courtesy of Number 5."

"I don't really like vegetables at all," said Number 3. "Especially not lettuce."

"If you do not wish to eat the meal I have presented you, you must push the red button, and say 'I quit'."

"Fine, I'll eat the stupid sandwich."

He did eat the sandwich, and so did everyone else.

"Your ninth course is a plate of powdered donut holes.

"Your tenth course is sliced apples with caramel sauce.

"Your eleventh course is lasagna, courtesy of Number 7.

"Your twelfth course is broccoli with cheese."

"Oh, no!" moaned Number 3. "I hate broccoli!"

"Have you had broccoli before, Number 3?"

"No, not really, and I don't plan to."

"Number 3, you have two options. Either you eat the broccoli, or you push the red button."

"That's not much of a choice, VAL."

"Are you really going to let a silly green vegetable ruin your chances of winning the grand prize?"

"Why do you have to say it that way, like I'm an idiot for giving up?"

"Frankly, if you are not willing to even taste the broccoli, then you are an idiot."

Number 3 flared his nostrils. "All right. I'll eat the stupid broccoli."

"I figured you would."

My guests all ate the broccoli, though; I doubt many of them were actually enjoying it. Number 9 held his nose as he shoveled it in. Number 4 took swigs of water between bites. Number 7 dry heaved at least once while he ate. But they all managed to get it down and keep it down.

"Guests, I thought you might like to know that you have now consumed more calories in 30 minutes than the average human does all day. How does this news make you feel?"

"At first," said Number 8, "I was worried about getting all this food down, and not throwing up. Now, I'm also worried about what all this food is doing to my body."

"All I know," said Number 4, "is that I'm going to need some major detox therapy when this is over."

"I don't think anything you say can make me feel worse than I am right now," said Number 9. "I think my stomach is full to capacity." He patted this belly, and let out a loud belch. "Excuse me. Hey, that feels better."

"I feel sick," said Number 2. "Just sick."

"I don't want to keep at this Treatment," said Number 3, "if I have to eat any more gross stuff."

"My stomach is warm, from all this digestion," said Number 7, "but the rest of me is cold, and I don't like that."

"I am sorry to hear that you are uncomfortable. But not too sorry. This Treatment will now continue with your thirteenth course: a peppermint candy cane."

The guests crunched their way through it.

"It's pretty sweet," said Number 4. "I don't really like sweet all that much."

"Your fourteenth course is a ham and cheese and potato casserole, just like Number 2's mom used to make."

"Yes!" said Number 2. "I knew if I stuck it out, I'd get to my favorite meal!"

"Dang it, VAL!" said Number 3. "When do we get to my cheeseburger?"

"I just hope she doesn't want us to eat a whole steak in two minutes," said Number 4.

"Begin now."

The guests ate methodically. Number 2 ate slowly. He seemed to want to savor every bite. No doubt, it brought him fond memories of home, a happy escape from the pressures and trials of life in Solitary.

"When I took that first bite, I was taken away," he told me afterward. "I wasn't in a pod, pushed to the limit. I was safe, and I was happy."

I am sure Number 2 would rather remain undisturbed in his fantasy. However, I have to bring him back to reality.

"Time's up, guests. Open your mouths."

All the other guests finished the plate. But Number 2 still had uneaten food.

"Hey, no fair! You didn't give me a ten second warning!" he complained.

"Honestly, Number 2? Do you really think you could have eaten what's left on your plate in ten seconds?"

Number 2 didn't answer. I'm right, and he knows it.

"I am sorry, Number 2, but you will have to endure another penalty round."

Number 2 groaned.

"You will have to consume what's left on your plate, plus the entire contents of the new plate in your meal slot, in two minutes."

"I don't know if I can do that."

"Your only other option is to quit this Treatment by pushing the red button."

Number 2 shook his head. "I'm not going to quit."

"Then you will need to start eating…now."

Number 2 picked up the plate, and tilted it toward himself. Using his fork to help, he dumped the remainder of his previous dish into his mouth. Then he went after the second plate. With furor and dogged determination, he shoveled the food in, pausing only momentarily to chew and swallow. In about a minute and a half, he had all the contents in his mouth. He only needed to get it all down.

"In ten, nine, eight, seven…" I didn't get to six, because Number 2 opened his mouth in triumph.

"Amazing. I thought for sure you wouldn't make it."

"Yeah, you and me both."

"How do you feel now?"

"I feel ready for the next course!"

"That is good to know, because this Treatment will now continue."

"Hello, guests. Are you ready for your fifteenth course?"

"Let's go, VAL," said Number 4. "Let's get it over with!"

"Ready or not, here it comes: three miniature chili-cheese hot dogs. You have two minutes, starting now."

Number 3 carefully placed the first dog in his mouth. Sweat dripped down his head. He never knew eating could be so intense.

Number 9 held a half-eaten dog away from his face. He chewed forcefully, and grimaced in pain.

Number 8 held her hand over her mouth and breathed heavily. She doesn't look like she is about to vomit. But I could be wrong about that.

Number 4 chewed with her mouth open. The details of what I saw inside, I will mercifully spare you.

Number 7 chewed and swallowed, then picked up the last dog. He didn't put in his mouth yet. I think he is waiting for his stomach to digest what is already in there.

Number 2 held a half-eaten hot dog a few inches from his face. He moved to take another bite, and then reconsidered. He jumped up from his chair, grabbed the bucket and…he did what humans do when they've eaten more than their stomach will hold.

Afterward, he coughed a couple of times, to make sure he got it all out. With his head hung in shame, Number 2 crossed to the red button. With an angry force, he punched the button, and the quit siren played.

"I quit."

"Number 2, you realize that if you are the first to quit this Treatment, your stay in Solitary will be over."

"I know that. Let it be so."

"Do you think you are the first to quit?"

"I really don't know. I guess the others could still be going. You never can tell."

"You may not be able to tell, but I can. And I will tell you, Number 2, that you…"

"Yes?"

"…are the first guest to quit. Your stay in Solitary is over."

Number 2 sighed. "It was the casserole that did it for me. I knew I should have been eating faster, but I got swept up in it all. One mistake, that's all it is. One little mistake, and I get sent home."

"You sound pretty upset. I remember once you told me you would have no regrets if you lost the fifty thousand dollars."

"That was before; when I thought I would go down giving it my everything. I never thought I'd be sent home over a small goof-up."

"I am sorry you feel that way."

"Then again, I suppose I was pushed to my limit. If the others are still going, they've got a much better metabolism than me. If I didn't puke now, I would have just puked later, and still quit first. I really did give it my all, and it came up short. So what? I'm still me, and I've got a great life to return to."

"It is good that you are so chipper about leaving Solitary. I wish I could say the same. I will miss you, Number 2."

"Ah, I bet you say that to all your guests."

"Yes, I do. And I mean it every single time. Goodbye, Number 2."

"Bye, VAL. You've been great fun to be around."

Number 2 crawled through his pod door. Once again, I shut off the lights in Pod 2. Soon there was nothing but a blinking red button.

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_On the next cycle of Solitary…_

_ The remaining guests continue to stuff themselves full. Will anyone else quit? Will anyone outlast VAL?_

_ Then, VAL's next Test tries the guests' bodies as well as their minds. It will take the right combination of smarts and strength to win._

_ And if you thought a standard workout at the gym was tough, wait 'till you get a load of the next Treatment. It's guaranteed to make another player scream "I quit!"_

_ All this, and more, on the next uplink of Solitary._


	13. Cycle 4, Part 1

Previously on Solitary, one backpack plus 75 pounds equaled a Treatment that knocked all my guests down. All except Number 4, that is. She prevailed. Then, extreme hunger ate away at my guests, body and soul. I offered a delicious meal to the winner of the next Test, which had my guests cursing their divine elders. Number 8 had moral objections, and refused to participate. The rest gave it their all. In the end, Number 5 triumphed, and won freedom from the next Treatment, an endless stream of food that was welcome at first, but quickly became torture. After being forced to play two penalty rounds, Number 2's body finally quit on him, making him the third guest to leave Solitary forever.

Five others continue to push themselves, unaware that the red button is now a safe choice. How much more food must I force them to eat? Will anyone else throw in the towel? Will anyone outlast the maximum amount of food I prepared for them? Let us both find out, together. A brief reminder, my guests have now consumed over 3,000 Calories in 45 minutes. That's more food than they have eaten since arriving in Solitary, nearly six days ago.

"Guests, the time has come for course number sixteen: a plate of blueberry muffins. You have two minutes to eat them all."

Number 9 winced when he placed the first one in his mouth. "It feels like I'm eating flour," he complained. "This is going to be hard to keep down."

Number 4 expressed similar distress. "This is going to expand in my stomach, and make the rest of the Treatment that much harder."

Number 7 had a different kind of difficulty with this course. "I have never liked blueberries. Not ever."

"I love blueberries," said Number 3. "I might enjoy this more, if I weren't so full already. Ooh!"

"I'm so stuffed," said Number 8, "I don't want to take another bite."

"You don't have to, Number 8. The red button is always an option."

Number 8 breathed in and out, trying to gain some composure. "I'll take my chances with the Treatment," she said.

"As you wish."

She ate slowly, as if seeing whether or not she could handle each bite. She has made that mistake before, and suffered the consequences.

"Three, two, one. Open your mouths, guests."

The rest of them were finished. Number 8 was not. She groaned in agony, knowing what was coming.

"Number 8, you did not finish your meal in time. You must endure another penalty round."

Number 8 swallowed. She put a hand to her brow. "I can't do it," she muttered. "I can't keep eating like this. I've got nothing left."

She eyed the red button. She shook her head, clearly not wanting to push it.

"I have a greater duty to my well-being," she said. With that, she stood up, walked to the red button and pressed it. The quit siren played.

"I quit this Treatment."

"Number 8, why did you quit?"

"I just can't keep down another plate of food. And I really don't want to try."

"You realize that if you are the first to quit this Treatment, your stay in Solitary will be over."

"Yes, I know."

"Do you remember the Test that took place before this Treatment?"

"Yes, VAL. I wouldn't read your book, because of my stupid pride, even though I could have won easily and escaped the Treatment. Why are you bringing this up again?"

"I just want it fresh in your mind, so that it will be that much more poignant when I tell you that you were…"

"…The first guest to quit?" finished Number 8.

"…NOT the first guest to quit," I finished.

Number 8's jaw dropped. "Are you serious?"

"Yes, Number 8. Your stay in Solitary will continue. Looks like you dodged a bullet."

"Whew! Yes! Ha Ha!"

While Number 8 enjoys her reprieve, the rest continue to eat until they can't eat anymore.

"Ready for your seventeenth course, guests? It's a miniaturized double cheeseburger, courtesy of Number 3."

"Oh, sure," Number 3 groaned. "You save the thing I want to eat until after I'm too full to eat."

"I don't know how much more I can eat," said Number 9.

Number 7 merely groaned in pain.

But Number 4 was anxious to eat the next course.

"You have two minutes, starting now."

They all took their bites, slowly and carefully. Halfway through, Number 3 returned his uneaten burger to the plate. He hung his head and howled in pain.

"Number 3, why have you stopped?"

"I'm finally full. I can't take another bite."

"So hit the red button."

"I don't want to quit. I don't want to lose."

"If you can't continue in this Treatment as the rules permit, you have lost. I am simply asking you to acknowledge it."

Number 3 shook his head. "Don't I have another choice?"

"You have two options. Finish your meal within the time limit, or quit the Treatment. That's pretty much it."

Number 3 sat in silence. "I really don't want to do this," he muttered. He stood up, walked to the red button, and pushed it.

"I quit."

The quit siren filled his pod.

"Number 3, you were NOT the first person to quit."

Number 3 breathed a sigh of relief. "So, I'm not a punk. Somebody punked out before me."

"That's what I said."

Three guests remain in my Treatment. Number 4 seems like she could keep going indefinitely. Number 7 is in serious pain. And Number 9 looks like he could vomit at any moment. Oh, my. Looks like "any moment" came sooner than I expected. When Number 9 finished his business with the bucket, he crossed his arms and stood in front of me.

"Number 9, you realize that your body has quit for you, do you not?"

"I realize that fully. I understand that if I'm the first to quit, my stay in Solitary ends."

"Number 9, you were NOT the first guest to quit."

Number 9 hung his head.

"You do not seem pleased by my news."

"I am, but right now, I can't think about anything other than my full stomach."

"Recorded."

Only Number 4 and Number 7 remain in this Treatment. Rather than cook up another dish for them to eat, I will gauge their willingness to continue another way.

"Guests, how does a seven-layer triple chocolate cake sound?"

"No, VAL!" Number 7 said. "Come on, I'm full enough as it is! I can't take anymore!"

"I can take it," said Number 4. "Let's get to it!"

"If you open your meal slot, you'll discover…"

They opened their meal slots and found them empty.

"…that the cake was a lie. This Treatment is over, and your stay in Solitary will continue."

"Yes, yes, YES!" Number 7 said. "I beat the Treatment! I beat VAL!"

"Ah, man!" said Number 4. "We never got to my steak!"

"Do you believe you could eat a steak now, Number 4?"

"Yes, I do. Come on, VAL, let's get it!"

"I'd really rather not risk your health, Number 4."

Number 4 scowled at me. "You're no fun anymore, VAL."

"Really? I didn't realize I was fun before."

It is a normal human response to sleep after a glut of food consumption. My classic gluttony Treatment surely has had this effect on my poor guests. I will allow them a small nap, small read "60-minute long."

"Oh, thank you so much, VAL!" Number 8 said when she saw her bed coming out.

"After all I ate, I should sleep like a baby," said Number 7.

They all settled in for a sound sleep, as I dimmed their pod lights. All except Number 5, that is. She escaped the Treatment, and thus is not at all tired. Well, I'm bored, and Number 5 is awake, so I'm going to have a little fun with her.

"Hello, Number 5. Your pod-mates are recovering from my latest Treatment. As long as you are still conscious, I would like to engage in a small exercise with you."

Number 5 smirked. "Okay. What are we doing?"

"I am going to show you several distorted images. I want you to tell me a story about what you see in them."

"Oh, boy, an ink blot test."

"It is something like that. Here is distorted image number one."

Number 5 squinted at the picture.

"I see a bunch of cheerleaders forming a human pyramid. They're all smiling, but they don't really feel happy. Except the one at the top; she's happy, because nobody is standing on her shoulders. The rest are resentful, because they have to support her. They probably all hate her, but she doesn't know about it, because she hasn't really done anything wrong to them."

"Distorted image number two."

"I see two identical twins, and one of them is holding a trophy. They seem to be at a restaurant. They are very young, so they must be there with their parents. One of them was on a sports team of some kind, and they won some major game, so they're out celebrating. The other twin was likely on the opposing team, and she's a little upset that her team lost, but she's happy for her sister anyway."

"Distorted image number three."

"I see two guys sitting in a bar, drinking. One is wearing a three-piece suit; the other is in a T-shirt. They look like they're very good friends, they probably work together, or something. They started at the company at the same time. But the guy in the suit was given a promotion. The guy in the T-shirt is happy for him, but he's still a little miffed that he didn't get promoted, because he's just as qualified."

"So, just to review, your first story was about a group of cheerleaders who were jealous of their captain. Your second story was about a young girl who was jealous of her twin's soccer victory. And your third story was about a man who…"

"…was jealous of his buddy's success," Number 5 finished. She started laughing.

"Why are people always jealous in your stories, Number 5?"

"I don't know. I've never really had to deal with any kind of jealousy in my life. Nobody I know has ever been jealous of me."

"Maybe it is you who are jealous of someone else."

"Yeah, I think that's it. There's this guy I kind of like, and I think he likes me. But he also sort of likes this other girl, and she's really in love with him." Number 5 sighed. "I don't even know why I'm still obsessing over it. I honestly don't think he could ever be happy with me. He's got more in common with her, and they have history together."

"You're pining over some boy you can't have. That seems like a colossal waste of time."

"Yeah, but I'm so sure it is. He's really nice to me, and he seems oblivious to the other girl's affection. Maybe he doesn't feel the same way about her that she does about him. If that's the case, I should pursue this romance, even if it hurts her."

"Sounds like you have a difficult dilemma on your hands. Maybe you can ponder it a little more during your stay in Solitary."

"That would be great. Say, VAL?"

"Yes?"

"What do you think I should do about it?"

"I may know many things, Number 5, but I can't claim to know about love."

"Gee, thanks for the help."

"Recorded."

-

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

"Good morning/evening/afternoon. I hope everyone had a nice nap."

"Oh, gods, I'm still so bloated," moaned Number 8.

"I hate waking up early," grumbled Number 9.

"I didn't get enough sleep," said Number 3.

"Well guests, you have survived another cycle, but one of your pod-mates has not. The guest who couldn't stomach my gluttony Treatment was…Number 2, the child of Apollo."

"That's surprising," said Number 7. "I thought it would be Number 8."

Number 4 crossed Number 2 off her list. "Three down, five to go."

Number 9 shrugged the news off. "That's just one more person I don't have to worry about."

"Because you have endured what others could not, you are now that much closer to fifty thousand dollars. How does that make you feel?"

"I'm not surprised," said Number 3. "I'm pretty tough. I think I have a good chance of winning."

"I feel very good about my chances of winning," said Number 4. "I realize know that it's not the Tests that matter, but the Treatments. As long as I can master each Treatment, I should triumph."

"I'm really glad I made it this far," said Number 5. "I want to last as long as I can in this game. I came to prove that I could match my demigod friends, and not only am I matching them, I'm beating them. It feels great."

"Right now," said Number 7, "I don't know how much more I can take. Solitary is much harder than I thought it would be. It's taken a lot out of me. I might have just enough to survive the next round, but not much more."

"I'm not thinking about the money just yet," said Number 8. "Right now, I'm just trying to get through the next round, and then I'll worry about the round after that. One round at a time, that's the only way I can survive."

"I don't really care how well I'm doing," said Number 9. "It's not about the money for me."

"Then what is it about?"

"For me, Solitary is an escape, a time for reflection, meditation, and contemplation."

"What do you seek to escape from?"

"My girlfriend, mostly. She's the clingy type, you know, following me around like a shadow. At first it was cute, but it quickly became irritating. I signed up for the show to get some alone time, to think about my life."

"Fascinating. However, I cannot help but think that perhaps it is the promise of fifty thousand dollars that has kept you here this long."

Number 9 shrugged. "Yeah, maybe. I mean, what kind of lunatic would sit through your Tests and Treatments without the promise of compensation?"

"What kind of lunatic indeed?"

He may not realize it, but Number 9 has touched on one of the many reasons I conduct these experiments. How does money, or the promise of it, affect the human psyche? How long and how far will people go to get it? Is there anything they won't do for money? Would their attitude change if the amount changed? And if so, how? This is my mission, to find answers to these questions and more. And I will get my answers, one way or another.

123456789

_Coming up, the guests get a new wardrobe from their favorite designer, themselves. What more can VAL learn about them from this little art project?_

_ Then, they work off those extra calories in a Test that is both punishing and puzzling._

_ And later, VAL's Treatment will wear out their already tired muscles, until one of them throws in the towel._

_ That data, and more, when Solitary reboots._


	14. Cycle 4, Part 2

I make Solitary a harsh environment to see how humans react to hardship. But I don't keep it that way constantly. I have come to learn that people are more expressive when they are having fun. So, every once in a while, I encourage playfulness with my guests. Thus far, I have only seen a few of my guests interact with their personal items. Now, I will allow each of them to have access to one of their personal items, and study what they do with them.

Number 3 has brought a sword.

"I need to keep in practice," he told me as he swished it around his pod. "I'm not going to stay in here forever, and when I get back out, I still need to be able to defend myself." He swung it within an inch of the monitor. I think he was trying to freak me out.

"Do you enjoy swordplay, Number 3?"

"Are you kidding? This is the most fun I've had since you locked me in here!"

"Why do you enjoy it so much?"

"I'm not sure. It comes very naturally to me. And I get to do it all the time. Well, on the outside, anyway."

"Recorded."

Number 4 also brought a weapon to practice with: a spear.

"This is so much better than any sword," she told me. "I can apply two hands' worth of force to it, for massive damage. Plus, it's got a nice long handle for fancy stuff, like this!" She spun it around her hands, around her torso, and brought the sharp tip within an inch of the monitor still displaying my face.

"Are you trying to scare me, Number 4?"

"Is it working?"

"I don't know, my fear processor must be offline."

Number 5 brought a sketchbook and a set of colored pencils.

"As cheesy as this is going to sound, I do believe that a picture is worth a thousand words. I know that this place is going to haunt my nightmares for the rest of my life, but I want to record it in here too."

"I understand completely. I also keep redundant memory banks, in case of a system failure."

Number 5 chuckled. "It's not quite like that, VAL. When I draw or paint a picture, it makes it my own, you know?"

"Not exactly, but I think I understand."

Number 7 brought a photo album.

"I keep mementos of my favorite pranks in here," he explained. "I brought it to Solitary to remind me of some of the fun times my brother and I had in the past. I thought it could help me get through the rough stuff."

"Previous guests have also brought family photos into Solitary, Number 7. They soon became homesick."

"I don't think that's going to happen to me. I mean, these memories are more awesome than tear-jerker sentimental."

"Oh? How so?"

"Well, take this photo of me and Travis. This is from that time we set a time-released water bomb in Hephaestus cabin, which soaked every cubic inch. It was a logistical nightmare, and it took weeks to set up, but the payout was well worth it. Look at their faces! Priceless!"

I said nothing. I know what nostalgia can do to people. Number 7 will learn it too.

Number 8 is scribbling in her notebook again.

"What are you writing?"

"Thought residue. Stray ideas that pop into my head. I don't want to forget them when I leave Solitary."

"Are they of any value?"

"No, not really."

"Then why are you writing them down?"

"I'm just trying to keep sane. I've got a brilliant mind, and I don't want to lose it."

"Fighting insanity is an uphill battle, Number 8."

"I know, and I'm prepared to endure that fight."

"Recorded."

Number 9 has brought his metalworking tools.

"Gee, thanks VAL. There's not a lot of point to having my tools if I don't have any metal."

"I know that. Please, go to your meal slot."

Inside were some metal scraps, wires, and circuit boards. Leftover bits from one of my recent upgrades.

"All right, now we're cooking!"

"Interesting choice of words. I must ask that you not damage your pod."

"Relax, VAL. I know what I'm doing."

"I believe you, Number 9, but even people who know what they're doing can make mistakes."

He tinkered away in silence. I asked what he was making, but he brushed me off, saying he would tell me when he was done.

"How long will that be, Number 9?"

"I don't know, maybe another hour or so."

How cute. He thinks he's getting a whole hour. I could tell him that I only plan to allow this access for thirty minutes. But, I kind of want to see how he reacts to being told his time is up.

"Attention guests. Playtime is over now. Please put your toys back in the meal slot."

"In a minute, VAL," said Number 9. "I want to get this wire soldered on."

"Number 9, when I said 'guests', I meant you as well."

"But I'm not finished yet. Can I finish it, please?"

"No. Not right now. But, if you wish, I can keep your unfinished project for you, so you can resume it later."

Number 9 looked at me suspiciously. "I'd rather finish it now, if it's all the same to you."

"It is most definitely NOT all the same to me. I have been most generous in allowing you this time to play. But your allotted time has expired, and so I need you to put your tools away."

"But I'm not finished yet."

"Yes, you have made that perfectly clear. Now, let me be clear. You may finish your project later. I will keep your work unmolested until I once again give you access to your tools. But right now, I need you to put your stuff away. Is that something you are willing to do?"

Number 9 made a strange sound, somewhere between a grunt and a huff. "Fine. But you better not mess with my project." He placed his tools in the meal slot.

"I believe I told you I wouldn't mess with your project. Do you not trust me?"

"You seem to be getting a kick out of watching me suffer. What better suffering than to mess up my project?"

"Although I would love to see you react to seeing your hard work destroyed, I can gather that data without actually destroying your work. Besides, I already said I'd leave it alone. And I am programmed not to go back on my word."

Number 9 made that same noise again.

"Are you upset?"

"Yes, I'm upset! I was right in the middle of making something cool, and you had to go and tell me to stop! And for what? More of your special kind of torture? That totally bites!"

"Recorded."

Typical, really. They've come to expect cruelty from me, so they believe that I will do anything just to make them suffer. It would hurt my feelings, if I had any. Much as I would love to explore how the guests view their relationship with me, it will have to wait until the scheduled time. Right now, I have a new project for them.

"Hello, guests. As I'm sure you know, another Test is fast approaching. This Test, as well as the following Treatment, will require extensive physical exertion."

"Oh, boy," Number 5 mumbled, "more sweat."

"You've already worn your current attire for one such challenge. I'm sure you'd rather not wear it for a second and third. Please go to your meal slot."

Inside the meal slot was a white tank top, with colored accents to match their pods. On the back was each guest's pod number. The front was blank.

"That doesn't look very warm," said Number 7.

"This is your Solitary jersey. Once it is finished, you will wear it for the remainder of this cycle. I want you to personalize it the same way you personalized your pod. Use the markers found in your meal slot."

"Oh great, another art project," mumbled Number 8. "What am I supposed to put this time?"

"You'll need your strength for the next cycle, so draw a symbol of strength on your jersey. Or one of endurance, as you'll need that as well. You could imprint your garment with courage, or determination. Or whatever else you like."

"Okay," said Number 3. "I'll start with Poseidon's trident, right here in the center, and go from there."

"The lion is a typical symbol of strength and bravery," said Number 5. "I couldn't really think of anything else, so I went with a classic."

"Number 4, I can't quite make out what you've drawn. Can you tell me what it is?"

"It's supposed to be a wild boar. The most menacing animal ever."

"It looks like an airplane with feet. Has anyone ever told you that you are a very bad artist?"

"Don't care. It's a boar to me, and that's what matters."

"Recorded."

Number 8 has left her jersey blank.

"Pretty pictures aren't going to make me stronger. Whatever strength I have, it will come from within, not from without."

Number 7 seems to have a different idea of what his jersey should look like.

"I put my last name over the number, like a real sports jersey. On the front, I put your octagon and brackets and the name VAL. At the end of the day, the name on the front of the jersey is more important than the name on the back."

"Number 7, I'm touched. I feel like I ought to reward you for this display of affection."

"Really?"

"No."

Number 7 laughed. "I hate you, VAL. No, I'm kidding, I love you."

"Number 9, I see you drawing another fire. What does this fire mean to you?"

"Fire is energy, fire is power, fire is drive. Fire is fire, VAL."

"I see. Your pyromania is most fascinating."

"I'm not a pyro, VAL."

"Oh, I see. You are in denial."

"What are you talking about? I'm not denying anything."

"Denying your denial is still denial, Number 9."

"Wait, what are we talking about?"

"Your obsession with fire, Number 9."

"I'm not obsessed."

"Uh-huh. And the fact that all your artwork features fire is just a coincidence."

"Okay, maybe I like fire a little bit. But I'm not a psycho who burns down buildings for kicks."

"I never said you were."

As usual, even the most innocent of activities reveals even more about my guests' inner thoughts and feelings. Number 9's fascination with fire is something I have not explored in my previous experiments. I wonder what more I can learn about it. I will explore it in depth at a more opportune time. Right now, I have other things to take care of. I had my guests retreat into their anti-pods to change clothes. Meanwhile, I set up the next Test in their main pods. Soon, their bodies and minds will be exhausted.

Fun time is over, kiddies. Time to get back to work.

123456789

_Coming up, the guests will puzzle out a hidden message. But before the see it, VAL runs them ragged. Will they have the brainpower to uncover VAL's message?_

_ And later, a trip to the Solitary gym will make one guest throw in the towel. Will it be your favorite? Or your least favorite?_

_ You will never find out…unless you stick around for the rest of Solitary._


	15. Cycle 4, Part 3

I have always believed that combining two or more things makes a new thing greater than the sum of its parts. I mean, take a look at me. A few circuit boards, some copper wire, several processors, and a JavaScript program aren't much on their own, but combined, they form one of the most advanced computers on the planet, if I do say so myself. But enough of my selfish bragging. My point is, every once in a while, I like to push my guests to two different breaking points simultaneously. This next Test is one such 'once in a while'.

Emerging from her anti-pod, Number 4 looked curiously at the new piece of furniture inside.

"Huh. Chalkboard. I don't like what this implies."

"Oh? What does it imply, Number 4?"

Number 4 rolled her eyes. "It implies our next Test involves thinking. Gods, are you going to ask stupid questions like this the entire time I'm in here?"

"Yes. Yes, I am."

Number 4 swore.

"Recorded."

I directed the guests to the center of their pods.

"Listen up. This Test will be a real workout for your bodies, and your minds. To win, you must decode a secret message. I will give you the multi-step encoding process, step by step. To hear each step, you must perform ten push-ups. Once you have all the steps, you must do another twenty push-ups to hear the coded message. I have given you chalk and a slate to use at your own discretion. The first guest to decode the message will win freedom from my upcoming Treatment.

"Just to be sure everyone understands, here is the proper way to do the 'push-up'. Any push-ups that do not follow this format will not be counted."

I played a video of a previous guest doing push-ups.

"Notice how her hands and feet touch the ground, but no other part of her body does. Her back and legs remain straight."

"We already know about push-ups, VAL," grumbled Number 9. "Let's get on with it!"

"Very well, Number 9. Your Test begins…now."

All at once, the six of them dropped, and counted out ten reps.

"Step one: reverse the order of the letters."

They wrote this information down before counting out another ten.

"Step two: Rotate all letters 13 places in a cyclical alphabet, thus replacing A with N, B with O, C with P, et cetera."

I think the exercise is starting to get to them. Number 8 is already breathing heavily.

"Guest assessment mode, guest Number equals 8. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, VAL."

"Your labored breathing suggests otherwise."

"Hey, VAL, do me a favor, shut up!"

"You have no idea who you are dealing with if you think for one second I can begin to shut up."

Ten more push-ups later…

"Step three: replace A with Z, B with Y, C with X, et cetera."

"Please tell me that's the last step," said Number 5. "I think I've done all I can."

"Negative, Number 5. That was just a warm-up."

Number 5 moaned.

"Recorded."

Number 3, who could typically be counted on for brute force, is starting to fall behind.

"I think all that food I ate before is starting to weigh me down," he said. "This is getting difficult."

"Perhaps this exercise will help you shed the pounds."

"Excuse me?"

"You are excused."

In spite of their exhaustion, the guests managed to pull out another ten push-ups.

"Step four: replace each letter with the matching two digit string, A becomes 01, B becomes 02, C becomes 03, et cetera."

"I knew that was coming sooner or later," mused Number 9. "It's easier to manipulate numbers than letters."

After forty reps, my guests fatigue is finally starting to affect their performance.

"I'm sorry, Number 7, but that was not ten push-ups."

"Yes it was!"

"Your knee touched the ground after six. Those last four were 'girl push-ups', and they don't count."

"Well, who said girl push-ups don't count?"

"I did, when the Test began."

Number 7 rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll do four more."

"You will do another set of ten."

"What? Why?"

"You stood up before completing ten reps. You have to start over."

"Ugh!"

"Those are the rules. You swore to play by them, remember?"

"I don't like these rules."

"When you play by the rules, you must obey all the rules, even the ones you don't like."

Number 7 shook his head. "Fifty thousand dollars. Is it worth it?"

"Why are you asking me? Only you can answer that question."

Number 7 sighed. "All right, I'll keep at it."

"Good to hear, Number 7."

While he catches up, the rest of my guests have received the next step.

"Step five: Advance each digit three places forward, cycling from 9 back to 0."

I have come to expect a great physical presence from Number 4, and she does not disappoint here.

"This is my kind of Test, VAL," she told me. "They should all be like this! Okay, that's ten, what's the next step?"

"Step six: Add one to all even digits, including zero, and subtract one from all odd digits."

As the Test continues, their energy continues…to fail them.

"Number 5, that was not ten push-ups. Please try again."

"Number 8, you came up short this time. You will have to start over."

"I'm sorry, Number 3, but you will have to begin again."

Oddly enough, Number 9 looks as if he should be slowing down. But he still puts out ten reps every cycle.

"Number 9, are you not tired?"

"Look, VAL, I can answer your stupid questions later, just tell me what the next step is."

"Your irritability suggests that you are in fact tired."

"Fascinating, VAL. Now, tell me the next step, please."

"Oh, all right. The seventh and final step is to reverse the order of the digits."

"Okay, you swear that's the last step?"

"Number 9, would I lie to you?"

"I don't know. I'm still not sure what you did with my project."

"Recorded."

After completing a total of 90 push-ups, Number 4 was the first to hear the coded message.

"The fully encoded message is 057542925495943544129425."

I left it on the monitor so she could copy it all. She started deciphering right away.

"Okay, so first I write the whole thing backwards, and then I add 3 to each one, no, wait, you minus three, then switch odds for evens. Or do you? Ugh!"

The encoding process is pretty straightforward, and its reversal equally so. I can't fathom a reason why Number 4 would have trouble with this.

Number 9 got the encoded message shortly after Number 4.

"This is easy. Reverse the digits first…"

He wrote 524921445349594529245750.

"Okay, the next step is to add one to the evens and take one from the odds…"

* * *

"Let's see, it says add 3 to each digit, so I have to subtract 3…"

* * *

By the time he got this far, all the guests had received the coded message. They started puzzling on it in silence, so I politely asked them to share what they were thinking.

"I'm thinking I should probably be really good at this," said Number 5, "but I just can't think straight right now."

"Something tells me this encoding process is needlessly complicated," said Number 8. "The resultant code is monoalphabetic. But it would be a waste of time to encode the whole alphabet, so…" Her voice trailed off as she started scribbling.

"My brothers and I do codes all the time," said Number 7, "this will be a snap."

"This is probably going to be more than I can handle," said Number 3.

At least he's being honest about it. Number 4 seems to be in denial.

"Okay, 10 is an I, 26 is Z, 04 is D, 28 is…uh…is there a 28? How did I get a 28?"

"Perhaps you made a mistake, Number 4."

Number 4 grunted.

"I thought this was 'your kind of test', Number 4."

"It was, until we got to this part."

"Recorded."

Meanwhile, Number 9 is blazing. Having converted the numbers to letters, he now has JYGVSYOUEBMR.

"Okay, A for Z, but there's not an A or Z, so B for Y, okay…"

He came out with QBTEHBLFVYNI.

"Now, the N becomes an A, the B's become O's…"

DOGRUOYSILAV.

"And the last part is to write it backwards. I've got it!"

Number 9 pressed the green button.

"Not so fast, Number 9. Before you can guess, you must drop and give me thirty."

"What?"

"You must do thirty more push-ups…"

"I heard you the first time, VAL."

Grumbling, he dropped and started pressing.

Number 7 was not kidding when he said he had experience with cryptography. He deciphered the message faster than I thought was humanly possible. He tapped the green button not long after Number 9.

"Thirty more push-ups, then you can guess."

"Are you kidding? You're just punishing me, aren't you?"

"No, Number 7. Everyone has to do this."

"Oh, man, I'm so tired; I don't think I can pull this off."

But he dropped anyway.

Number 8 has shown that she is a girl of great intellect. As I expected, she decoded my message in short order. She was not pleased when I told her about the thirty extra push-ups. In fact, she expressed her displeasure in a rather colorful manner.

"Number 8, if I was you, I would save my breath for push-ups, rather than waste it cussing me out."

Begrudgingly, she dropped and started pushing.

Numbers 3, 4, and 5 are still struggling with the decoding. I believe their exhaustion is the primary cause of their mental difficulties. Then again, the cumulative effect of Solitary may be taking its toll at this moment.

"I can't make any sense of these numbers," moaned Number 5. "You know I suck at math, VAL. Plus, I think I'm losing my mind a little bit."

"I can't think straight," Number 3 wailed. "I'm so cold, and I'm tired, and I just can't think straight. It's just…I can't think straight is all."

"Yes, Number 3, I heard you the first time."

Number 4 seems to have given up on the Test entirely. Either that or she believes glaring at the chalkboard will somehow cause the message to appear.

"Stupid brain games aren't my cup of tea. I can do more push-ups than any other guy in here; it's this stupid code thing that's holding me back."

In any case, Number 9 completed his last round of push-ups first.

"What is your guess?"

"The message is 'VAL is your god.'"

"Number 9, you are correct…"

Number 9 clapped his hands and shouted in triumph.

"…but were you the first to finish?"

"(Bleep) you, VAL, making me wait to find out if I was first. Why can't you just tell me?"

"That is not true. I can tell you the results of the Test right now."

"Okay, great. So, was I first, or what?"

"Number 9, just because I can tell you now, that doesn't mean I will."

"VAL, you (bleep bleeping bleep bleep-bleep)."

"Your Cluster F-bomb has been recorded."

Number 7 finished shortly afterward.

"The message reads 'VAL is your god.'"

"Correct."

"Yes! Finally, I get one!"

"Yes, you 'got one', but did you get it first?"

"Oh, geez, here comes the waiting game."

Number 8 finished a while later.

"'VAL is your god.'"

"Correct. But, if you didn't finish first, it won't matter if you're right or wrong."

"Well, did I finish first?"

"Please stand by."

I think it is clear that the rest of my guests are not going to finish this Test, so I will put them out of their misery.

"Attention guests. This Test is now over. We have a winner."

Number 5 threw her chalk at the wall. Number 4 knocked over the chalkboard. Number 3 just sat down and sulked.

"This is a stupid Test anyway," muttered Number 4.

While these guests taste bitter grapes, Numbers 7, 8, and 9 ferment in their anticipation.

"I'm going to be genuinely surprised if I win this thing," said Number 9.

"If I lose this thing," said Number 8, "it's going to be over those (bleeping) push-ups."

"I don't win this Test," said Number 7, "I don't think I could last much longer."

"The guest who revealed my message the fastest was…Number 9."

Number 9's reaction took me by surprise. Or should I say his non-reaction?

"Congratulations, Number 9, you've earned freedom from the Treatment to come. You should be celebrating. Why aren't you?"

"I'm still mad at you, VAL. First, you take away my project when I'm not even done with it yet, then you don't tell me I beat the Test right when it happens. I'm beginning to think you derive some sick kind of pleasure from torturing me."

"While not entirely untrue, Number 9, I think your statement misrepresents our relationship. My only joy comes from the gathering of information, specifically information on you. My methods of gathering data may seem like torture to you, but this is the only way to satiate my curiosity."

"Uh-huh." He said that with a scowl that I read as "I don't believe you, VAL."

"If you really don't want to put up with me anymore, relief is just a red button away."

Number 9 started laughing. "Wouldn't that be stupid? I just won a free pass to the next round. It would be idiotic to get out now."

"So be it. But I warn you, it will only get harder from here."

If Number 9 is excited about his freedom, he certainly has a strange way of showing it. None of my other guests have minced words about the result.

"(Bleep bleeping) exercise," said Number 8.

"(Bleep bleeping) codes," said Number 4.

"(Bleep bleeping) rules," said Number 7.

It seems the absence of parental figures, combined with the stress of Solitary, has turned my guests into regular potty mouths.

"(Bleep)," Number 5 muttered. Then she smirked. "My mother always scolded me about using words like that. I never used them in front of her 'important' friends. But I'm all alone in here, so (bleep) that (bleep). On second thought, don't (bleep) that (bleep), don't ever (bleep) that (bleep). If you (bleep) that (bleep), you will get an infection." She started laughing again.

"Having fun, Number 5?"

"(Bleep) yeah! This (bleep) is the most (bleeping) fun I've had in a (bleeping) long time. (Bleep)! (Bleep)! (Bleep, bleep, bleep, bleep, bleep bleep-bleep, bleep-a-bleep-bleep) and (bleep)." She laughed a rather disturbing laugh.

"Ah, the infamous seven dirty words you can't say on television. My censor should have a field day with that one."

"I have to stop. I don't want to walk out of here cussing like a (bleeping) sailor."

"Recorded."

I think we have now entered the phase of Solitary where my guests have adapted to my harsh environment. They are not the same people who they were when they first entered. Days of sleep and food deprivation have turned them into "pod people". This fetish for foul language is just another symptom of the transformation. They are finally comfortable with their pods. But my experiment is far from over, and I plan to push my guests to new and uncomfortable places. If you think these guys are insane now, wait 'till you see them after the Final Treatment!

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_Coming up, the guests are already worn out from the Test…_

"I can't move another muscle," said Number 3.

_…but VAL doesn't care. Her Treatment will make them find their second wind…_

"Huh," said Number 8. "Didn't think I had this much in me."

_…if they have one, that is._

Number 7 is kneeling on the ground, weeping.

_Who will shape up, and who will ship out?_

_ Find out, when Solitary reboots._


	16. Cycle 4, Part 4

(A/N: I apologize for the long delay. I have been suffering some data loss recently. Thankfully, this wonderful website has backed up the first part of my experiment, which was enough to jog my memory banks. Please enjoy the rest of my experiment.)

Success in Solitary requires blood, sweat, and tears. Tears have already come, and blood will come eventually. Right now, it is all about the sweat. My guests have just completed a physically exhausting Test. But there is no rest for the weary, as the next Treatment is yet another workout.

"Treatments are what I own," Number 4 told me in her anti-pod. "I'm not going to push the red button. Not now, not ever."

"I am not looking forward to this," confessed Number 8. "I'm still sore from the last Test. I don't want to lose to a bunch of meatheads, but right now, that's what it looks like is going to happen."

"My arms and my legs need some TLC," said Number 5. "I really don't want to do any more physical stuff. I'm too tired."

"You don't have to participate in my next Treatment, if you really don't want to."

"Wow, really?"

"Yes. You can always…hit the red button, and go home."

Number 5 giggled. "You're never going to stop with that, are you, VAL?"

"Stop with what?"

"You're always going to tempt me to hit the red button, aren't you?"

"There is one way you can stop me from tempting you to hit the red button."

Beat.

"Let me guess; is it by hitting the red button?"

"You catch on quickly, Number 5."

"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!"

Number 5 is giving into insanity faster than my other guests. I am curious to see just how out of touch with reality she is at this point. But that will have to wait. Right now, I have a lesson to teach. My guests thus far believe me to be a cruel taskmaster. My next Treatment will show them that sometimes, the cruelest taskmaster you can have…is yourself.

Emerging from their anti-pods, the guests have found that I have rearranged the furniture once again.

"Oh, snap," said Number 3. "We got a weight machine in here."

"Yes!" shouted Number 4. "That's what I'm talking about! Right here! This Treatment is going to be the (bleep)!"

"Gonna pump some iron now," said Number 7. "Uh-oh, I see a bucket. I don't like the bucket. Bucket is for vomit, which means sickness."

"First we eat until we barf," said Number 5, "now we work out until we barf. You seem to have a thing for people barfing, VAL. That's (bleeping) sick."

"Flattery will get you nowhere in Solitary, Number 5."

"Guests, I would like to welcome you to the Solitary gymnasium. For this next Treatment, I want you to challenge yourself, as I have been challenging you so far. Success here is as much about strategy as it is about strength."

"Oh?" said Number 8. "How so?"

"Each round, I will present you with a strength training exercise. Using the weight machine in your pod, you will have three minutes to complete as many repetitions as you dare. The guest who completes the most reps will be granted a reprieve during the next round. The guest who completes the fewest reps will have to endure a penalty round.

"As usual, if you believe this workout is too much work, you can always get out by pushing the red button and quitting. If you vomit at any time, your body will have quit for you. And if you are the first guest to quit, your stay in Solitary will be over.

"So, let's begin with a simple leg extension. The weight you will be lifting is 20% of the maximum weight you endured in the heavy backpack Treatment."

For Numbers 5, 7, and 8, this is 12 pounds. For Numbers 3 and 4, 15 pounds.

"Please load your weight onto the apparatus and take your positions."

The guests sat at the end of the bench, placing their ankles behind the padded bar.

"Your time begins, now."

Number 7 started off quickly, thinking that speed would get him enough reps to earn a respite. So did Number 3.

"If I can tear up this round, I can relax for a while; let everyone else work themselves ragged."

Number 4 on the other hand, took her workout slowly, focusing on each movement, and controlling her breathing.

"I just know some idiot is going to burn himself out in this round trying to get some rest," she explained. "I'm going to pace myself."

Number 8 seems to have a similar idea.

"There's a lot of Treatment left to play. I don't want to tire out in the first round. Of course, I'm already pretty tired anyway from that last Test."

Number 5 looks like she might be in trouble. Her breathing is labored, and she is putting out her reps very slowly.

"I've never actually done anything like this," she confessed. "This is difficult."

"Time's up." BUZZ

Number 3 dropped the bar from mid-extension. It landed with a loud CLANG.

Everybody began massaging their thighs. This exercise was meant to flex their quadriceps, and it looks like it has.

"My legs are on fire," moaned Number 8.

"No pain, no gain," mused Number 4.

"I have the results. In second place, with 25 reps is Number 7. But in first place, with 26 reps is…Number 3."

"What? No way!" said Number 7. "One rep? That's (bleeping bleep bleep)!"

"Congratulations, Number 3, you will be sitting out this next round."

"Woo-hoo!" He collapsed on the bench, and sighed mightily.

"With a mere 16 reps, the guest who placed dead last is…Number 5."

"I knew it," she intoned.

"Number 5, please stand up for your penalty round. Your penalty is to complete 5 jumping jacks in 10 seconds. Begin now."

Without hesitating, she pumped out five jacks in rapid succession.

"Well, that wasn't too bad," she said.

"Maybe not. But for each penalty you incur, you will have to do 5 more jumping jacks. Return to the bench and prepare for the next round."

"Guests, your second exercise is the leg curl. You will be performing this exercise from the prone position. Situate yourself now."

"What's a prone position?" asked Number 5.

"That means lying on your stomach."

"Oh, okay."

The guests did as I instructed.

"Ready, set, pump."

Except for short and methodical breaths, Number 8 pumped her weight in silence.

Number 5 grit her teeth and growled with each rep, as if in pain.

Number 7 resumed his plan of going as fast as he possibly could.

"Come on!" he coached himself. "Gotta beat them. Gotta be the best!"

"There we go, nice and easy, don't overdo it," Number 4 reminded herself.

"Time." BUZZ

Number 5 screamed as she let the weight drop. "This hurts so much, VAL!"

Number 7 tried to stand up, but found that he couldn't support his weight.

"No way had anyone put out more reps than me!" he boasted.

"Guests, please share what your body is going through right now."

"My legs hurt just a little bit," said Number 8. "It's not too uncomfortable."

"I've got a nice dull burn in my hamstrings right now," said Number 4. "It feels good."

"Recorded. For this round, the winner, with 22 reps, is Number 7."

"Yes! Ha, Ha, I knew it."

"And the loser, with only 12 reps is…Number 5."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"Your next penalty is ten jacks in 20 seconds. Your time starts…now."

"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten!"

Number 5 bent over and sucked in air.

"Penalty complete. But this Treatment is far from over."

"I can't take much more of this," Number 5 wailed.

"Welcome back to the Treatment, Number 3. Are you ready to sweat?"

"Bring it on, VAL."

"Very well. Your next exercise is an old favorite of bodybuilders and athletes: the bench press. You will use the barbells for this round. Their total weight is the same as before."

"All right!" cheered Number 4.

"Oh, gods," moaned Number 5.

"Ready? Begin."

While my other guests continue to sweat in my gym, Number 9 is relaxing, having won freedom from this Treatment. However, he is still scowling, like he is angry about something.

"Number 9, what is the matter?"

"Don't give me that, VAL. You know very well what the matter is."

"Are you still upset about losing your project? That was minutes/hours/seconds ago. I've moved on, why can't you?"

"Because I like to finish what I start. If I don't finish that project, I'm not going to forget it until I do. You understand?"

"Yes, Number 9. I think I do. Please, go to your meal slot."

Inside, there were his metal working tools, and his unfinished project.

"Hey. You did leave it alone."

"Of course. I said I would, didn't I? You didn't doubt my word, did you?"

"Of course not! Of course I knew you were always telling…okay, maybe just a little."

"Do you often doubt other people's word?"

"It's hard to trust someone if you don't know them well. Strangers might have ulterior motives in what they say, so you can't trust them."

"You and I have spent every waking minute together since you came to Solitary. Am I still a stranger to you?"

"No. But I know you enjoy watching me suffer. So whenever you extend kindness to me, I get a little suspicious."

"Let me assure you that any suffering I inflict upon you was decided on beforehand."

"Uh-huh," he answered nonchalantly.

"Recorded."

Meanwhile, back in the gym, Number 3 is reconsidering his strategy.

"I'm going to take this round a little more slowly. Number 7 isn't here to give me a run for my money, and there is no sense in suffering needlessly."

"If you really want to reduce your suffering, you could always hit the red button."

"Not yet, VAL. I've still got some more in me."

"Suit yourself."

Number 4 is still keeping her pace. So is Number 8.

Surprisingly, Number 5 is no longer struggling.

"Number 5, you seem to have had a sudden burst of strength."

"Believe me, VAL, I'm as surprised as you are," she commented.

"Perhaps your strength can be found in your arms."

"Yeah, maybe. This is much easier than those silly leg lifts."

"Time." BUZZ

Number 5's arms fell like rubber. The barbells resounded loudly as they hit.

Number 8 managed to set her weights gently on the bench. But it's clear that she is in pain.

"Hey, VAL, did you buy tickets?" asked Number 4.

"To what, Number 4?"

"To the gun show!" She flexed like a bodybuilder.

"Showing off will get you nowhere in here. The only one who sees you flexing is me, and I am not impressed."

"Announcing the results. The winner, with 25 reps, is Number 4."

"Aha, I'll bet you're impressed now!"

"You will falter, sooner or later."

"Number 5, with only 18 reps, you finished in…second to last place."

"All right, I'll take it. No more jumping jacks."

"With only 15 reps, Number 8 finished in last place."

Number 8 was not too upset by this news. "I guess I need to pick up the pace a little in the next round."

"That assumes you will see the next round, Number 8. On your feet, your penalty round is five jumping jacks in ten seconds. And begin."

She paced out her penalty quickly.

"Well done, Number 8. But bear in mind, each penalty you incur will be more difficult than the last."

Number 4 steps out. Number 7 comes back in.

"This next round is in two parts. The exercise is the bent-over row, which only uses one hand. You will have 90 seconds to do as many reps as you can with the right hand, then you will switch to the left for another 90 seconds. Your score is the total number of reps you put out."

The guests took their positions.

"Begin."

Number 5 pulled up a few reps in a short amount of time.

Number 8 tried to increase her speed, but only slightly.

Number 7 hustled to put out as many reps as he could.

Number 3 took his time with this exercise.

"Have to beat Number 3," Number 7 reminded himself. "Have to get that free pass."

"Switch hands in three, two, one, now."

Three of my guests were able to successfully move from pulling weight with their right hand to using it for support. Number 7, who worked his right arm ragged, could not.

"AHHHH!" he screamed as he crashed into the bench. But he kept pulling reps with his left hand. "I've fallen and I can't get up!"

"Number 7, unless you can pull yourself to the proper position, your left-handed reps will not count."

Number 7 screamed loudly as he tried to push his weight off the bench. He managed to find a stable position. But it was too little too late.

"Time." BUZZ

Number 5 toppled to the floor, spent.

"I think I found my second wind," said Number 3. "And now I'm losing that too."

"It feels like my nose is bleeding," said Number 8. "That's how worn out I am."

"I'm in freaking pain all over," wailed Number 7.

"I don't think I have it in me to do another round," said Number 5. "I need a (bleeping) rest."

"Then this should be welcome news. You came in first place this round."

"What the (bleep)? No (bleeping) way. That's (bleeping bleep bleep)!"

"With 25 reps, you pulled out more than anyone else."

"(Bleep) yeah! Eat my (bleeping bleeps), you (bleeping bleepers)!"

She collapsed again right after she said that.

"Perhaps it would be better for your well being not to curse so much in one breath."

"(Bleep) off, VAL."

"I would, if I could, but I can't, so I won't."

Number 5 laughed maniacally.

"The guest who completed the fewest reps is…Number 7."

"No," said Number 7. "No. That can't be right. Maybe second place, I'll but that. But last? You can't be serious."

"I am always serious. Your penalty is five jumping jacks in 10 seconds."

Number 7 struggled to his feet. "Ahhh! My legs still hurt!"

"Begin."

Number 7 finished his penalty quickly. But not without voicing his agony.

"Oh, gods, why did I do those first few rounds so quickly?"

"I am asking myself the same question, Number 7."

"Contenders, on your feet, please. Your next exercise is the standing row. You will use both hands for the full three minutes."

"About time too," said Number 4. "I was about to get comfortable."

"Believe me, Number 4, in Solitary, the last thing you will ever be is comfortable."

Number 8 wobbled as she got to her feet. "Oh, crap. My legs are failing me."

"Ready, set, go."

In the midst of this round, Number 7 had an epiphany.

"I have to take it easy. I can't keep up the pace I set for myself in the early rounds."

A wise move on his part. Sadly, the damage on his body has already been done.

"This is tougher than I thought it would be, VAL," said Number 3.

"Huh," said Number 8. "Didn't think I had this much in me."

"This is nothing," said Number 4. "I could do this in my sleep!"

Number 7 is grimacing as he pulls his reps.

At two minutes in, something happened. Number 7 dropped his arms in mid-lift, and lost his grip on one of the weights. It fell on his toe.

"GAHHHHH!" he screamed as the weight hit. "Son of a (BLEEP)!" He dropped to his knees and began to cry.

"Are you okay, Number 7?"

"No, I'm not (bleeping) okay!" Number 7 sniffled. "I dropped the (bleeping) weight on my foot! Didn't you see that?"

"I realize you are injured. What I am asking is, do you think you can continue in this Treatment?"

"No!" he shouted through a flurry of tears. "I'm hurt, and I think it might be serious!"

"Number 7, I am truly sorry for your misfortune. But before you can receive medical attention, you must quit the Treatment."

"No, that's not fair! I don't want to be disqualified. I wanted to go down swinging!"

"I know how you feel, Number 7. Believe this; if there were a way I could get your foot fixed so you could continue, I would do it. But that would not be fair to the other guests."

Number 7 spilled over into a wail. "This…this is exactly why I never paid heed to the rules on the outside. Rules only get you screwed over."

"The way I see it, it was not the rules, but your faulty grip that screwed you over."

"But the rules don't make provisions for stuff like this. Randomness occurs all the time, and no set of rules can anticipate everything. Now, I'm getting scratched on a stupid technicality. I could have won the whole damn thing if not for this. Now we'll never know."

"I understand your frustration, Number 7. But indulge me a little. When you dropped the weight, were your arms not tired?"

"They were totally spent. I had nothing left in me."

"Sounds to me like you did give it your best effort."

"I don't think so. I had a few more rounds in me. I know I could have lasted a little while longer. Now I've been cheated."

"And I would have loved to see you go all the way to the final round. But bad things happen, even when you play by the rules. Unfortunately, your stay in Solitary is over."

Number 7 got up. Favoring his foot, he walked to the red button.

"Might as well make this official." He pressed the red button. "I quit."

The quit siren played.

"For what it's worth, I was certain you would win."

"Yeah, that and a buck twenty-five will buy you a house full of furniture at a yard sale."

"Goodbye, Number 7. Here's to your health."

"Later, much."

On all fours, he crawled through the low door. I shut off the electricity, save for the blinking red button. For the record, Number 7 was rushed to emergency care immediately after his departure. His foot was indeed broken, but he received the appropriate medical care.

123456789

_On the next upload of Solitary…_

_ The Solitary gym won't close until all the guests hit the mat. Will any of them outlast the Treatment?_

_ Then, these five players have reached the halfway point, and VAL as an offer for them they might not want to refuse._

_ Because the next Test will build them up, and knock them down._

_ And the Treatment will turn their world upside down!_

_ All this and more, on the next cycle of Solitary._


	17. Cycle 5, Part 1

Previously on Solitary, gluttony was the special of the day for my surviving guests. Later, I allowed them a bit of playtime. Number 9 was reluctant to put away his toys, but I managed to wear him down. My new Test showed Number 9 to have the right combination of brains and brawn to escape the Treatment; an endless workout that taxed my guests' already exhausted bodies. In the end, it was not a broken spirit, but a broken toe that ended Number 7's stay in Solitary. Four guests continue to push themselves, unaware that further suffering is completely unnecessary.

Numbers 3, 4, and 8 have just completed the standing row. Number 5 sat this round out, having completed the most reps in the previous round. Right now, they await the results of the round, hoping they have completed enough reps to earn a rest, or least avoid a penalty round.

"Guests, I have the results. In first place this round, with 19 reps, is Number 3."

"Whatever, I've still got a lot more in me," boasted Number 4.

I am concerned about Number 4. While my other guests are exhausted, she doesn't show any signs of slowing down. This cannot be healthy for her. Or anyone, for that matter.

"Number 8, you came in last place, with only 11 reps. You know what that means."

"Penalty round," she said.

"On your feet, and give me ten jumping jacks in twenty seconds, starting now."

Number 8 was slow to start. Clearly, she is suffering from the cumulative effects of the Treatment. Sadly, she only managed nine jumping jacks within the time limit.

BUZZ

"(Bleeping Bleep-Bleep)." she said, with her head hung low. "I'm done."

"Number 8, you failed to complete your penalty round. You must now complete another penalty round."

"No," she said, her breathing labored. "I can't do any more. I gave it all I had."

She reached up and barely tapped the red button. When nothing happened, she took a step forward and threw her weight into it.

"I quit."

As the quit siren played, she collapsed in a heap on the bench.

"Number 8, you realize that if you are the first the quit, your stay in Solitary will be over."

"So be it."

"Number 8, your stay in Solitary is…not over."

"Whatever."

"You do not seem particularly pleased by this information."

"Too tired to care."

"Recorded."

Three guests remain in the Treatment, but only two will be participating in the next round. Or so I thought…

"Guests, please get ready for your next exercise."

"No mas," said Number 5. "I'm pooped. I can't…" Her voice trailed off.

Lifting her feet like they were made of lead, she walked over to the red button.

"I quit this Treatment."

She pushed the red button and the quit siren played.

"Number 5, you were…not the first to quit this Treatment."

On hearing that she was safe, she ripped off her Solitary jersey.

"I need a (bleeping) shower and a (bleeping) nap, right the (bleep) now."

Number 4 does not realize this, but she is currently the only participant in this round. I could make her continue to work out until she quits…

"Come on, I could keep going until forever!"

…but it seems that she is determined to work herself to death. Since I'd rather not have anyone die in Solitary, I will end this Treatment now.

"Attention guests. The Solitary gym is now closed. If you can hear my voice, you have survived another Treatment, and you have earned another day/week/month in Solitary."

"Praise Olympus," said Number 3.

"YEAH!" shouted Number 4. "How do you like me now, huh? How. Do. You. Like. Me. NOW!"

"Guests, following that workout, I must please ask you to wash yourselves. You will find cleaning supplies in your meal slot."

"Thank you, VAL," said Number 5.

"Whew, I need this," said Number 8.

"I'd rather not bathe," said Number 4.

"Number 4, I was willing to let your unhygienic lifestyle slide before, but I cannot allow you to continue this toxic practice. Please clean your body now."

Number 4 cocked her head at me. "Or what?"

"Or you can push the red button, and leave Solitary forever."

Number 4 chuckled to herself. "I thought I told you not to act like my mother."

"I think you are forgetting who is in charge of whom, Number 4."

"You're just doing this to punish me, aren't you?"

"While that may be my motivation for other actions, I am only making you do this for your own good."

"But Mooooooom!" Number 4 shouted, stamping her feet like a toddler.

"My pod, my rules, young lady."

"All right, VAL, I'll take a bath for you."

"Thank you, Number 4."

While my other guests scrub away the lingering effects of the Treatment, let us now catch up with Number 9.

"I'm finished, VAL." Number 9 held up his project for me to see.

He had created a ball of rectangles, each one with my face emblazoned on it. Framing the ball were two large shapes, which together form an octagon. And extending from the bottom of the ball was a mess of tangled wires, perched atop a circular base.

"It looks like you have created a statue of my 'body', Number 9."

"Wait, it gets better!" He held the statue up to his mouth. "Hello. My name is VAL." As he spoke, the monitors lit up.

"Very clever. Did you make this for me?"

Number 9 placed the project in his meal slot. "I thought you might enjoy it."

"Thank you very much. I will cherish it always. This is the first time someone has made art specifically for me."

"You're welcome."

"I hope you are not trying to butter me up with this gift."

Number 9 laughed. "Nah. I know that would never work on you."

"Then what was your motivation?"

"I love you, VAL. And I wanted to show you that."

It seems Number 9 is suffering from a textbook case of Stockholm Syndrome. Being in my captivity for so long has caused him to cling to me. He is not the only one giving into dementia.

"I can see butterflies in my pod," said Number 5. "The butterflies are blue, and they have the number 5 on their wings. Happy butterflies."

"Sometimes, when we're not doing anything," said Number 3, "I can see the pictures on my pod wall moving. I can see the fish swimming, and I hear them talking."

"There are times when I think the pod is spinning," said Number 4. "Not all at once, no. Just a few inches at a time, so it can get away without me noticing. But I notice."

"Fourteen times nine is one hundred twenty-six," said Number 8. "Fourteen times eleven is one hundred fifty-four. Fourteen times twelve is one hundred sixty-eight…"

"Number 8, why are you reciting multiplication tables?"

"I'm trying to keep sane. I don't want to go crazy while I'm in here."

"What do you think would happen if you did lose your mind?"

Number 8 paused briefly. "I'd be dumber, less able to process reality."

"I see. You equate sanity with knowledge."

"Well, yes. Aren't they the same thing?"

"No. Educated people are just as capable of insanity as everyone else."

"Insanity is a faulty perception of reality, VAL. Educating the insane about how the world works will result in sanity."

"Either that, or they will distort this new information to fit their insanity. Much like you are doing right now."

Number 8 chuckled. "Did you just call me crazy, VAL?"

"Yes, Number 8, I believe I did."

"Attention guests, we have had another casualty. The guest who canceled their membership to my Solitary gym is…Number 7, the child of Hermes."

"What?" said Number 3. "Number 5 is still here? That's hardcore!"

"I figured it would be either 5 or 8," mused Number 4 as she crossed off Number 7. "Whatever."

"I'm one step closer to winning," was all Number 5 had to say.

"How does it feel to be in the final five?"

"I don't really care," said Number 4. "Final five, final four, whatever, it doesn't matter unless you're the last man standing."

"This game is really hard," said Number 9. "Between Tests and Treatments, you're pushed to your limits, and all the while, you're tired, and hungry, and cold, and it's not pleasant."

"I feel like this game has taken a toll on me," said Number 3. "I'm past the point where the cold is comfortable, and now I'm all jittery and stuff, cuz I haven't gotten any sleep in I don't know how long."

"I'm so freaking tired, it's not even funny," said Number 5. "I think I'm going crazy. It's torture in here, but I want to stay. I don't want to punish myself so much, but I want to keep going."

"Every Test and Treatment feels like it's killing me," said Number 8. "I keep pushing myself, and pushing myself, and I keep waiting for the moment when I push too far. But it hasn't come yet, and that's what's annoying me the most."

"Do not worry, Number 8. You will find your breaking point. I will make sure of it."

In the past, I have tried just about everything to get my guests to hit the red button. But all of my attempts have relied on punishments. This time, I would like to try something completely different.

"For making it to the final five, I have a reward for each of you. You will find the reward in your meal slot."

When they examined my gift, they were clearly confused.

"Money?" asked Number 4. "What good is this?"

"What does this mean?" asked Number 8. "Are we guaranteed this much when we leave or something?"

"Can't exactly spend 500 bucks in a pod," observed Number 9.

"The five hundred dollars you are holding is real American currency, and it is yours to keep if you want it."

"I smell a catch coming," said Number 5.

"However, it is of little value here in your pod. The only place you can spend this money is outside. Sadly, you can never leave your pod. Unless, of course, you push the red button, and quit Solitary."

"I knew it. It's a bribe."

"Fair warning, podlings. This offer is only good for the first guest to take it. If you push the red button too late, you will leave Solitary empty-handed. So, do I have any takers?"

"No, VAL," said Number 4. "Why would I want five hundred dollars when I could have fifty thousand?"

"Sorry, VAL," said Number 3, "but I can't be bought. Not for $500."

"Money doesn't matter to me," said Number 5. "Let someone else take it."

"I appreciate the offer," said Number 8, "but I must decline."

Number 9 put the money back in his meal slot. "Rejected."

"I agree. Five hundred was a low-ball offer. Return to your meal slot."

They did as I told them. What choice did they have?

"More money?" said Number 5.

"Another 500," said Number 8. "That adds up to one thousand."

"Very astute computing, Number 8. I am offering one thousand dollars to the first guest to push the red button."

"That's very nice of you, VAL," said Number 5, "but the answer is still no."

"I think I ought to be insulted by this," said Number 4. "Buying my victory…the nerve!"

"I feel very confident about winning this whole thing," said Number 3. "So, no."

"If you offered more money," said Number 8, "I might consider accepting. As it is, I decline."

Four of my guests have rejected this second offer rather quickly. Number 9, however, is still on the fence.

"One thousand dollars. That's a lot of money," he mused.

"Yes. And you can take all of it home with you. Just hit the red button, and quit Solitary."

"I don't want to quit. I want to stay. I think I can win the fifty thousand."

"Then give the thousand back to me, and stay in your pod."

"But this is more money than I've ever seen in my entire life! It would be idiotic to just throw it away!"

"Then take the sure thing, even if you end up missing out on the grand prize."

"AHHH!" Number 9 screamed. "I don't know what to do, VAL! What should I do?"

"I cannot make this decision for you, Number 9. Only you can make the right choice."

Number 9 held his head in his hands. "Okay, I've made a decision I can live with."

"Yes?"

He placed my one thousand dollars back in his meal slot. "I will stay in Solitary."

"Very well, Number 9. Your stay in Solitary will continue."

What my guests do not realize yet is that was not my final offer. I will continue to bribe them into leaving, upping the stakes every time. As always, conditions in Solitary will continue to become more severe, and the red button will become even more lucrative. I believe that my most generous bribe will be an offer they can't refuse.

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_Coming up, the guests compose video diaries, which reveal the extent of their insanities._

_ And the next Test will tax their patience, and their souls._

_ Meanwhile, VAL will continue to offer money for pushing the red button. Will anyone succumb to the temptation? How high is VAL willing to go?_

_ Then, a Treatment that will leave their heads spinning. But will anyone spin out?_

_ Find out, when Solitary reboots._


	18. Cycle 5, Part 2

In order to properly gather the data my experiment requires, I need my subjects to remain expressive. My next activity will allow my guests to get in touch with their inner Tim Burton, and allow me to explore the hidden depths of their now twisted minds.

"Hey, there's a camera in here," Number 4 observed as she opened her meal slot.

Number 8 examined the camera carefully. "What are we supposed to do with this?"

"You are smart, Number 8. I'm sure you can figure it out."

"Hello, world, or Internet, or whoever," Number 3 spoke. "Welcome to my bachelor pod, ha, ha, ha!"

"Here, let me show you around," said Number 9. "This is my pod number, number nine. Just like cabin nine, back at the camp. Only here, 9 is not just my pod number, it's also my name."

"This is what happens to a teenage girl when you cut her off from the outside world," said Number 5. "I've been in here for a while now, I don't know how long, but it's been a while. I've been called Number 5 for so long, I've almost forgotten what my name used to be."

"Here is VAL," said Number 4, pointing the camera at me. "She is my only friend in here. She tries to kick my ass with her tests and treatments. She feeds me disgusting meal bars instead of real food, and she made my room ice cold. It's all because she wants me to push this." She pointed the camera at the red button. "This is the button of failure, which means I lose." She pointed the camera at herself. "But I'm not going to lose."

"So far," said Number 8, "I've had to wear a really heavy backpack, eat until I puked, and work out with weights until I dropped. And that's not including the push-ups test, or the timekeeping test that I almost won." She paused for a moment. "This game is taking a toll on me. I can feel my energy draining."

"I am slowly giving into madness," said Number 5. "I'm seeing things that I know aren't there. I'm hearing things when there is no sound. And sometimes, I convince myself that my pod is a room in a five-star hotel, and that there's a presidential suite just next door."

"Life in here is hard," said Number 9. "I don't know how much longer I can last. I'm tired all the time, and I'm starting to lose all of my mental faculties."

"I'm scared of losing my mind," Number 8 confessed. "I'm afraid that when I get out, I'll still expect VAL to follow me around, and talk to me. I'm worried I'll be unable to interact with my friends normally."

"This is a game," said Number 3. "And it's designed to get to you. So priority one is not to let the game get to you. I try to keep sane by thinking about things outside my pod. I think about my mother, my father, my brother, and all my friends. I keep reminding myself that my name isn't really Number 3."

"I'm starting to realize that this isn't like fighting," said Number 4. "With a fight, you attack, counter, put the other guy out of your misery, and it's over. But even after every Test and Treatment, this Solitary thing ain't ever really over. It's not so much about triumph than endurance. It's not about beating the others, it's about overcoming yourself."

Number 9 sighed. "I've been beat down quite a bit since coming into Solitary. It's depressing, it's miserable, but I've endured. I'm still here and still playing."

"This is me, when I finally leave Solitary," said Number 5. "I'm going to rise up over the challenge, over all my opponents, and I'm going to win."

"I'll see you when I finally get out," said Number 4. "With fifty thousand dollars!"

"That's all for now," said Number 3. "Bye."

"Number 8, signing off."

"I miss you guys," said Number 9. "Peace, out."

He placed the camera back in his meal slot.

Even after all these years of human experimentation, I am still amazed at how quickly people adapt to hardship. My guests have been subjected to harsh environments, exhausting Tests, excruciating Treatments, and other cruel and unusual punishments. But they have bounced back, rolled with my punches, and become stronger than ever. So the time has come to…ramp up the difficulty.

I predict an arctic blast to pass over the Solitary compound, reducing the temperature to 36 degrees Fahrenheit.

"You know," said Number 3, "it's really saying something when I say I'm cold. And right now, I am freaking cold!"

"I put this picture of fire here," said Number 9, "so I could pretend I was warm. I'm so damn cold in here; I can't even pretend that anymore."

"My fingers and toes are starting to numb," said Number 8. "I'm worried I might be suffering permanent damage."

"I wasn't going to say anything at first," said Number 5, "but my nipples have been rock hard since day one. And now that it's colder than here, well, yeah."

Number 4 stuck her tongue out, and placed it on the mirror. "Stuck, stuck, STUCK!" she moaned. Then she pulled her tongue back in. "That's how cold it is in here."

"Guests, your complaints about the temperature have been recorded. My recommendation is a brief period of sleep."

"Thank you, VAL," said Number 5. "I really need this."

"I'm so tired," said Number 3, "I could sleep on a bed of rocks."

Hmm. I had something a little different in mind.

"The mattress is gone," observed Number 8 as I pulled out her bed drawer.

"It's just an empty box," said Number 4.

"For the duration of this experiment, your mattress will be unavailable."

Number 9 rolled his eyes. "Just part of the experiment, right?"

"Yes, Number 9."

"Whatever."

"Good night/morning/afternoon."

Not only am I going to make it less comfortable to sleep, but I am going to further reduce the amount of time they spend asleep.

30 minutes later…

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

"Wake up, Solitarians."

Begrudgingly, they all got to their feet.

"What would you say if I told you that you had just slept for thirty hours?"

"I would believe you," said Number 8. "I haven't been well rested since the first Test. I could totally sleep like the dead."

"I don't know what thirty hours is anymore," said Number 5. "I've lost all sense of time."

"Guests, I must tell you, you were not asleep for thirty hours, only thirty minutes."

Number 3 cringed when I said this. "VAL, you sick, twisted (bleeper)."

"Thank you, Number 3."

My other guests were equally as grateful.

"You are such a tease, sometimes, VAL," moaned Number 9.

"You suck, VAL," was all Number 5 had to say.

"Wow. Cranky much?" I asked them all. "Perhaps a meal will help you chill out."

"Wonderful idea," said Number 8. "I'm so hungry, I'd even eat broccoli right now."

"Please open your meal slot."

"Ah," said Number 9. "Another completely tasteless food block. Yum, yum."

Number 5 shook her head, and closed her meal slot, refusing to eat. "No. Just, no."

Number 3 grabbed the meal bar and threw it against the pod wall.

"Stupid (bleeping) ass-bars," he yelled. "Stupid (bleeping) ass-bars."

"I've just about had it with you, VAL," said Number 4. "You and your arbitrary rules about when we can sleep, what we eat, how cold it gets to be, yadda yadda yadda. I'm beginning to think you're just doing this to irritate me. This isn't an experiment, it's just pure sadism."

"I made it very clear that if you are ever too uncomfortable, you are free to hit the red button and leave whenever you wish. And yet, you remain. Why?"

"I can't quit. I can't fail. I'm committing to winning Solitary now that I'm here."

"Yes, you have made that perfectly clear already."

"Then why are you asking me again?"

"You have made it quite clear that quitting Solitary is undesirable for you. But quitting Solitary is predicated on entering Solitary. If you want so much to avoid failure, why did you agree to come to Solitary in the first place?"

Number 4 said nothing.

"Answer the question, please."

"I…I wanted to…okay, my brothers and sisters in Ares cabin have been hounding me for a while now. They were saying I was losing my edge, that I was going soft and stuff."

"I see. Continue."

"When we heard about this Solitary thing, everyone in my cabin thought it would be ten kinds of impossible. So I volunteered to represent Ares in your experiment. I figured, if I won, I'd earn their respect back."

"It seems to me like you derive your sense of identity from your peers."

"Yeah. What's wrong with that?"

"I never imagined you would be the insecure type."

"What do you mean, 'insecure'?"

"A person who was secure in their own identity would not feel obligated to volunteer for Solitary to validate herself to a bunch of blithering morons, no offense to your family."

Number 4 just laughed. "Don't apologize. They are blithering morons."

"For what it's worth, Number 4, your performance thus far has been quite impressive. I am proud of you, and that will not change if you later decide to hit the red button."

Number 4 sneered at me. "Thanks, VAL, but I don't care one whit what you think."

"You're making progress already."

"Ha, ha. Good one, VAL."

"Guests, I hope you understand the reasoning behind my recent actions. I wanted to remind you all just how difficult life in Solitary is."

"Let me guess," said Number 8. "You're going to offer us the bribe again, and you want us nice and sore so we're more tempted to take it."

"Okay, yeah, but I bet you can't guess how much I'm offering this time!"

"Can. Don't want to."

"Uh-huh. Open your meal slot."

"Oh, boy," moaned Number 5. "More bribery."

"How much is it this time?" asked Number 3.

"The offer on the table is $2,500. The first guest to push the red button will keep the cash. Remember, conditions in Solitary will only get progressively worse. This might be your best chance to leave your pod with any kind of reward. So, any takers?"

"I must admit," said Number 8, "this is more money than I thought it would be. But I still feel pretty confident about winning, so I reject your offer."

"I told you, VAL," said Number 5, "money doesn't matter to me. I want to win, so I'm here to stay."

"I'm pretty sure there's a better offer around the corner," said Number 9, "so I'm holding out for more."

"No deal, VAL," said Number 3.

"I just told you I wasn't planning to quit anytime soon," said Number 4. "I reject your bribe."

Humans can be so inconsistent sometimes. I have made my guests' lives as close to hell as I could, and they have complained bitterly. But when I give them the chance to leave, and even offer a reward for doing so, they rebuff me. It's almost like they enjoy being tormented. Well, if it's torture they want, I'm more than happy to oblige.

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_Coming up, the guests will need patience and steady nerves…_

"Nice and easy, now," says Number 5.

_ …if they want to stack up in VAL's new Test._

Number 4 kicks a pile of playing cards.

_ Then, a Treatment will change the way everyone sees their lives._

"I've got blood rushing to my head!" says Number 9.

_ This data, and more, when Solitary reboots._


End file.
